GV – Chapter 67

If Ye Yuhuan had said those words three months ago, Song Zhiqing would have, half-jokingly and half-seriously, tested the waters by asking: “Do you have a crush on me?”

But after experiencing such a tragic, indirect rejection, Song Zhiqing had become much more cautious.

In fact, far too cautious.

She decided to play the long game. Last time, she had been too hasty, impatiently revealing her feelings, not realizing that liking someone wasn’t a condition for them to like you back.

This time, she would take it slow. So slow that even if she saw the fish vaguely nibbling at the hook, she wouldn’t recklessly stir the lake’s waters until she was absolutely certain.

But the words still had their impact. Song Zhiqing turned her head away, her hand tracing over Ye Yuhuan’s fingernails from their joined hands, trying to distance herself from something so soft and tempting.

“Time for bed.” She faked a yawn.

“Okay,” Ye Yuhuan replied.

Judging by her expression, she didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what she’d said. Song Zhiqing secretly gritted her teeth. Damn straight girl.

Ye Yuhuan indeed didn’t think there was anything wrong with her words. It was a consistent inner thought of hers—to be together forever and ever. It wasn’t just about romantic love; she sincerely longed for Song Zhiqing’s companionship, nothing more. She considered it a beautiful wish that could be spoken aloud to anyone.

But she didn’t know that this was also one of the characteristics of love.

After they both got into bed, Song Zhiqing, having shaken off the daze from that seemingly romantic line, suddenly turned over to face Ye Yuhuan. “I just thought of something.”

Ye Yuhuan had been under high pressure these past few days. She’d taken a short nap in the afternoon, only to enter an even more high-pressure state immediately after. Her mental state was already poor, and she was practically overcome with sleepiness the moment her head hit the pillow. Hearing Song Zhiqing’s voice, she struggled to open her eyes, her voice hoarse with drowsiness. “Hm?”

The sound made Song Zhiqing’s cheeks tighten, and her dimples popped out—a tiny, stubborn-looking pair.

Unfortunately, the lights were off, so no one could see.

After composing herself, Song Zhiqing, slightly flustered and annoyed, quickened her speech. “What happened with Guo Siwan? How did she suddenly collapse? They said you did it, and that Guo Siwan is fine, but no one explained the details to me.”

She had been truly terrified at that moment. A living person with a ferocious expression had suddenly fallen to the ground, the knife in her hand scraping against Song Zhiqing’s thigh. She would never forget that icy touch for the rest of her life.

However, Song Zhiqing was greatly wronging Gao Yiren and Song Chen with these words. While waiting for Ye Yuhuan at the police station, they had tried to explain it to her. But Song Zhiqing had the distant, pining look of a “wife-watching rock,” giving the impression that she would be indifferent to whatever they said. And sure enough, after they spoke for nearly two minutes, Song Zhiqing only nodded mechanically, without even an “uh-huh,” “oh,” or “wow.” Gao Yiren sighed and cut the explanation short.

It was better to let Ye Yuhuan explain.

But explaining this properly was a hassle, involving too many old matters. So Ye Yuhuan gave a rough summary: “I made a small mechanical bug, had it fly near Guo Siwan, and then injected the toxin it was carrying into her body. The toxin isn’t harmful to her health; it just causes full-body paralysis and makes the person fall into a deep sleep.”

Ye Yuhuan got the “wow” that Gao Yiren hadn’t. Song Zhiqing’s face was full of amazement. “Where did you get such a powerful toxin?”

“Ah, I made it myself.”

At this moment, the sleepy-eyed person before her inexplicably gave Song Zhiqing a feeling of being unreachable. She can make her own toxins? I remember the textbooks only taught how to extract oxygen and carbon dioxide!

Ye Yuhuan is even smarter than the most exaggerated version I could imagine.

If Song Zhiqing knew this was the result of research Ye Yuhuan had done two years ago, she would probably be even more shocked. But she was shocked enough as it was. She remained silent for a long time, looking at Ye Yuhuan as if she were looking at a miracle.

The miracle herself, Ye Yuhuan, had involuntarily fallen asleep while waiting. By the time Song Zhiqing snapped out of her shock, the sleepy-eyed person had already drifted off to dreamland.

The person before her had a serene sleeping face. Her thin eyelids covered her usually dazzling peach-blossom eyes. The little rabbit hood was bunched up around her neck, its two ears crooked and askew, looking both lazy and cute. Song Zhiqing’s heart instantly softened. The sense of distance from seeing her as some kind of eccentric genius gradually faded, and Ye Yuhuan became a person of flesh and blood in her eyes again.

She realized how ridiculous her earlier thought of putting Ye Yuhuan on a pedestal was. Ye Yuhuan had never mentioned her talent in this area, which probably said something.

Song Zhiqing remembered what the old police officer had said to them before they left. He had said with a complicated expression, “If you can, please persuade Student Ye to change her ambition. I know I’m overstepping, but I truly think it’s a pity.”

At the time, Song Zhiqing didn’t understand what he meant, and Gao Yiren and Song Chen had politely brushed it off.

But she had noticed Ye Yuhuan’s expression: it was one of annoyance.

She quietly moved closer and whispered into Ye Yuhuan’s ear, “Even though you’re such an amazing genius, I still think it would be better for you to study psychology. Because Ye Yuhuan will be great at anything she does, so you can choose what you love.”

And when Ye Yuhuan talked about becoming the best psychologist, her expression was relaxed and joyful.

The dreaming Ye Yuhuan seemed to have heard her words. The corners of her lips curved up slightly, clearly having entered a pleasant dream.

“Good night, Ye Yuhuan,” Song Zhiqing whispered ever so softly.

The next day, the two of them slept until almost noon. Ye Yuhuan slept particularly soundly this time. After Song Zhiqing propped her head up and admired Miss Ye’s sleeping face for fifteen minutes, Sleeping Beauty Ye finally stirred awake.

However, waking up to a large face right in front of her, even if it was the face of the person she liked, Ye Yuhuan couldn’t help but be startled.

She abruptly rolled backward, the sharp movement causing the little rabbit ears on her shoulders to wobble.

The various shades of pink flowed over her body. A section of her straight collarbone was exposed, and her sleepy, peach-blossom eyes widened in alarm.

Like a peach.

Song Zhiqing stayed propped up where she was, not moving, and let out a chuckle. “Am I that scary?”

Though her words were teasing, her gaze was fixed on that section of collarbone.

Ye Yuhuan sat up uncomfortably, and the briefly revealed beautiful scenery was once again firmly covered by fabric.

“No, I just… um, you woke up early,” Ye Yuhuan replied nonsensically. Sleep seemed to have had some aftereffects on her intelligence, causing her to suddenly feel flustered about seeing Song Zhiqing first thing in the morning.

What’s the big deal? It’s not the first time.

But the other times I panicked… Song Zhiqing didn’t see it.

Song Zhiqing gave her a reproachful look, possessing the charm of a drunken crabapple blossom. The glance jolted Ye Yuhuan, making her shift back a tiny bit more.

It really was a tiny, tiny bit.

But what kind of eyesight did Song Zhiqing have? Videos of her playing tennis were still being worshipped on the school website. The speed of a tennis ball versus the speed of Ye Yuhuan—Song Zhiqing immediately stopped her half-finished stretch and quickly leaned in again.

Ye Yuhuan didn’t retreat this time. She knew full well that Song Zhiqing would definitely follow. If this continued, no matter how big the king-size bed was, it wouldn’t withstand them rolling over a few more times.

She would fall off.

So Ye Yuhuan pieced together a calm expression. “Shall we get up?”

Song Zhiqing huffed lightly. Instead of getting out on her side of the bed, she took a roundabout yet direct approach—climbing over Ye Yuhuan’s body and planting one foot on the floor.

Too close.

Ye Yuhuan watched a snow-white foot step over her thigh. Song Zhiqing’s hair, swaying with the movement, brushed across her collarbone. Her lips almost touched Song Zhiqing’s arm. Ye Yuhuan felt as if her heart had just been dropped from ten thousand meters in the sky and fallen straight into her left chest.

I haven’t come out, but have you not come out either?

How could a lesbian dare to be so bold and brazen these days?

The righteous-souled Comrade Ye obediently followed Song Zhiqing off the bed. But who knew, perhaps because she hadn’t succeeded in seeing a more flustered Ye Yuhuan, or perhaps her previous action was just a feint to lure the enemy in deeper, Song Zhiqing suddenly turned around and tackled Ye Yuhuan, who had just planted her feet on the ground, back onto the bed. Her two slender legs brazenly straddled Ye Yuhuan’s body.

She bent down, lowered her body, and cupped Ye Yuhuan’s face with both hands, giving her cheeks a gentle squeeze, full of the pampered young lady’s style. “I really hate how you always leave your sentences half-finished.”

With that face right in front of hers, Ye Yuhuan could smell the fragrance wafting from Song Zhiqing—jasmine.

How strange. The whole room smells like jasmine.

But I can still smell the difference in Song Zhiqing’s scent. It’s the difference between a real flower and a perfume that has been ravaged by high temperatures a thousand times over.

Ye Yuhuan moved Song Zhiqing’s hands away. There was still not a trace of unease in her eyes, as if she were completely unmoved, treating it merely as a mischievous child’s game. Song Zhiqing wrinkled her nose in disappointment and rolled over to lie flat on the bed.

Then she turned her head to the side, opening her mouth as if to say something to regain the upper hand, but her gaze suddenly froze on Ye Yuhuan’s waist.

A bow.

A bow that had been jostled into view by their recent tussle. It was pink and made of silk.

Ye Yuhuan followed Song Zhiqing’s gaze and her face instantly paled in horror.

Damn Murphy’s Law!

She quickly covered the spot with her hand, then immediately felt her own foolishness. At a time like this, I should be pulling up my pants!

“You really wear bows?”

Song Zhiqing said, as if talking in her sleep.

She swore to the heavens that she had only put those styles in there to tease Ye Yuhuan. She absolutely had not fantasized that Ye Yuhuan would actually wear them. For someone who wore even the little rabbit pajamas reluctantly, getting her to wear an even pinker, more girlish set was simply a dream.

And, in the process, achieve a little bit of revenge.

Who told Ye Yuhuan to be so calm and composed when she rejected her!

Only now, it seemed neither of them was calm and composed.

Ye Yuhuan felt like her brain had turned into a steamer, while Song Zhiqing’s face was red, her eyes darting about, lost in who-knows-what kind of wild thoughts.

Ye Yuhuan tried her best not to think about what wild thoughts Song Zhiqing was having right now. She wrapped herself up tightly and practically bolted out of the room.

Actually, Song Zhiqing wasn’t thinking about much. It was just… the thought that such a proper and restrained person would wear pink little rabbit pajamas and bow-tie panties for her.

It just felt… so thrilling.

Song Zhiqing covered her face and flopped onto the bed, her calves kicking excitedly.

Looking at it from another angle, Ye Yuhuan must feel very safe with her, otherwise she wouldn’t keep breaking through her own boundaries time and again.

Song Zhiqing was like an animal tamer, giving her chosen little animal a gentle and free environment, letting it test the waters and reveal its nature bit by bit.

And she stood in a hidden spot, observing quietly, turning everything into a taming technique.

This level of progress should count as good, right?

After a few silent cheers, Song Zhiqing freed herself from the covers and, in her slippers, went to find Ye Yuhuan, who was off growing mushrooms somewhere.

Song Zhiqing pushed open one door. Not there.

She pushed open another door. Still not there.

She thought, Ye Yuhuan couldn’t have been so embarrassed that she ran away, right?

But behind the third door, she found her target little animal standing in front of a mirror.

So she was in the walk-in closet.

But why hasn’t she changed her clothes yet? Didn’t she always change right after getting up?

Ye Yuhuan stared at her still-pink-clad self. She heard Song Zhiqing’s footsteps, getting closer and closer.

She pulled the rabbit hood, which had been dangling on her back, over her head, turned to face Song Zhiqing, and asked, “Am I cute?”

Song Zhiqing nodded blankly.

It was the rabbit spirit she had longed for in her dreams.

Ye Yuhuan smiled lightly, and there was even a hint of deliberate seduction in it.

“I think I’m very cute, too.”

Song Zhiqing was dumbfounded. What on earth had happened? Has Ye Yuhuan… broken?

Of course not.

Ye Yuhuan had simply figured something out during her shameful escape.

Being shy like this all the time won’t do. If I’m going to pursue someone, generously catering to their aesthetic preferences is a must, right?

A woman makes herself beautiful for the one who appreciates her.

That’s how the saying goes, isn’t it?

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