Chapter 91: The Bet

Zhao Shutong stared blankly for a full three seconds.

Then, she sniffed hard and mumbled a single word in a stuffy voice:

“Oh.”

She paused before remembering to ask, “Why did you suddenly confess like that?”

Ren Queyue looked at her reddened nose tip and eyes still glistening with tears, and confessed honestly:

“It was another one of Xiong Yibai’s traps. She bet me that she had a way to make you show up right away. If I lost, I had to… confess to you.”

Zhao Shutong lowered her eyelashes. “Oh. So it was just a bet.”

She pulled her hand free from Ren Queyue’s grasp and turned to leave again.

“Fine, I get it. I’ll go settle the score with them.”

“Wait!”

Ren Queyue grabbed her wrist once more, this time with a firmer grip. “You haven’t responded to me yet.”

Zhao Shutong turned back. “Respond? Isn’t this just you honoring the bet? What’s there to respond to?”

“No.”

Ren Queyue grew anxious.

“I only took the bet because the terms were something I planned to do anyway.”

Zhao Shutong’s heart skipped a beat. She lifted her gaze. “You mean you… really still…”

“I still like you.”

Ren Queyue finished her sentence.

“From back then until now, it hasn’t changed.”

This straightforward confession made Zhao Shutong’s heart tremble, but her experiences over the past few years made it hard for her to believe anyone could be so steadfast.

She turned her head away. “You… you don’t know about my love life these past few years.”

Ren Queyue took a step forward.

“I don’t need the details. I only know that no matter what your love life has been like these past few years or what it’s turned into, as long as it’s you, I’m willing to accept it.”

“But why?”

Zhao Shutong still didn’t understand.

Ren Queyue let out a soft sigh, her tone gentle. “There aren’t that many reasons. If you have to ask why…”

“It’s just that I like you, that’s all.”

After a few seconds of silence, Zhao Shutong said, “Alright then.”

Ren Queyue blinked. “…Alright?”

Zhao Shutong didn’t say another word. Instead, she unlocked her phone and shoved it into Ren Queyue’s hands. The screen displayed her WeChat chat list.

“Here,”

Zhao Shutong lifted her chin. “In WeChat, all those ones only saved by height and job… you can delete them.”

Ren Queyue looked down. Good grief—the list was a neat row of contacts saved as “178 Lawyer,” “185 Investment Banker,” “182 Designer,”…

A dazzling variety.

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she handed the phone back to Zhao Shutong, “We’ll delete them slowly when we have time.”

“Now…”

Before Ren Queyue could finish, she tightened her grip and pulled Zhao Shutong straight into her arms.

Without giving the other woman time to react, she leaned down and kissed her lips.

Zhao Shutong stiffened at first, then lifted her arms to loop them around Ren Queyue’s neck, responding with equal passion.

The dim light of the parking garage draped an ambiguous veil over them. The occasional sound of passing cars felt like it came from another world.

The kiss lasted a long time, filled with release, confirmation, and the cherishing of something lost and found again.

They finally parted, both a little breathless.

Zhao Shutong looked at Ren Queyue, then suddenly reached out and opened the rear door of her own car nearby.

“Get in.”

Ren Queyue gazed at her, a knowing smile curving her lips as she bent down and climbed inside.

Zhao Shutong followed right after, sliding into the backseat.

With a “bang,” the door shut, sealing all the ambiguity in that private space.

A thin layer of mist gradually formed on the car windows, blurring the city’s neon lights into hazy spots.

The air inside the car grew thick, every breath carrying the scent of the other.

Ren Queyue’s hand gently cupped Zhao Shutong’s cheek, her thumb brushing over her damp eyelashes.

Zhao Shutong didn’t close her eyes. She just stared straight into Ren Queyue’s.

“What are you looking at?” Ren Queyue’s voice was low and husky.

“You… to see if you’re real.” Zhao Shutong’s voice was soft.

Her response was a kiss pressed to her forehead, then trailing slowly down the bridge of her nose, hovering just above her lips, their breaths mingling, teasingly close yet not quite touching.

This unresolved torment was more maddening than direct contact.

Unable to bear it, Zhao Shutong tilted her head up, closing the distance herself.

But at the moment their lips were about to meet, Ren Queyue turned her head slightly, her lips landing on the sensitive edge of Zhao Shutong’s earlobe, accompanied by a whisper:

“I’ve always been real.”

Zhao Shutong instinctively shrank back…

Ren Queyue’s hand slid to the back of her neck, kneading the tense muscles there with just the right pressure.

Her other hand intertwined with Zhao Shutong’s fingers, locking them tight.

Zhao Shutong felt like a melting bar of chocolate, her outer shell dissolving bit by bit to reveal the soft, sweet core inside.

She was no longer content with this slow torment. Her free hand groped around, finding the collar of Ren Queyue’s shirt…

Ren Queyue lowered her head…

Zhao Shutong…

“Wait…”

“The seat… isn’t very comfortable…”

Ren Queyue chuckled lowly. “Then let’s switch positions.”

She sat up slightly and maneuvered them around.

Zhao Shutong was now settled in the wider center of the backseat.

“How about now?” Ren Queyue propped herself above her.

Zhao Shutong didn’t answer. She simply hooked her arm around Ren Queyue’s neck, letting an active kiss serve as her reply.