After Flirting with the God-Tier Beautiful Tycoon - Chapter 66.1

She and Chen Yi hadn’t seen each other for eight days.

Just now in the stairwell, she had almost lost control.

But what about this heartless coward? On one hand, she complied submissively; on the other, she fled in fear.

She really couldn’t understand what the woman was thinking. Truly difficult to read.

“Can you put me down now?” Chen Yi’s voice pulled Shen Xiaojiang back to reality.

Shen Xiaojiang gave a faint smirk and set her down right on the marble countertop.

Chen Yi hadn’t expected that Shen Xiaojiang’s version of “putting her down” would look like this.

Sitting like this felt a bit strange.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. Their gazes met and drifted away now searching, now retreating like a tentative probe or a high-stakes psychological game. To an outsider, it might have looked as if these two harbored some deep seated grudge.

Shen Xiaojiang shook her arm lightly, patting the muscle with her palm to relax it.

“Am I heavy?” Chen Yi asked abruptly.

Shen Xiaojiang paused, her eyes sweeping over Chen Yi’s pale face. “No.”

“Then why are you shaking your arm?” Chen Yi pressed.

Shen Xiaojiang pulled a few more tissues, folded them together, and walked to the sink. “It’s just been a long time since I held you. I’m out of practice.”

The older woman beside her fell silent.

Shen Xiaojiang turned on the faucet. The sound of running water filled their ears, partially masking the pitter-patter of rain outside.

“Has it been a long time?” Chen Yi’s voice wasn’t loud, but she raised it slightly to ensure Shen Xiaojiang could hear.

Shen Xiaojiang held the thick stack of tissues under the tap, letting only a third of them get wet. Hearing Chen Yi’s words, her movements stiffened, and her tone carried a hint of suppressed anger: “To you, it might just be a few days. To me, it’s been forever.”

Chen Yi’s throat tightened. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

Was it not the same for her?

She would never tell Shen Xiaojiang that these past few days had felt like years.

The restroom was empty, save for the sounds they made. It felt hollow, yet somehow crowded. Chen Yi wondered if something would crawl out from the long line of stalls at any moment the silhouettes of wind-whipped branches against the frosted windows looked like the flailing limbs of monsters.

Chen Yi wasn’t afraid of people, but she was afraid of ghosts terrified, actually.

This fear had become especially pronounced after meeting Shen Xiaojiang. When you have someone to lean on, you begin to despise the lonely days. Lying next to Shen Xiaojiang, she could sleep soundly until dawn. But these past few days…

Chen Yi was stubborn. She wouldn’t tell Shen Xiaojiang that she had been suffering from insomnia. If she didn’t apply heavy eyeshadow, her dark circles would be so prominent they’d look like bruises.

“Shen Xiaojiang…”

Once again, Chen Yi started to speak and then stopped.

Shen Xiaojiang was used to this. This time, she didn’t wait foolishly for an answer. She turned off the faucet, clutching the damp tissue in one hand and cupping the other beneath it. Her voice was cold. “Come here. Give me your foot.”

“Shen Xiaojiang.” Chen Yi looked at her with a gaze so fragile it seemed it might shatter at a touch.

“You’re unwilling?” Shen Xiaojiang looked back.

Their eyes locked. Silence stretched for several seconds. Dark clouds hung low over the city, and the light from outside dimmed further. Chen Yi couldn’t read the emotions in Shen Xiaojiang’s eyes; they were like a black sea at night, churning with hidden undercurrents.

“It’s not that,” she answered.

Shen Xiaojiang didn’t look away. “Then what is it?”

Chen Yi’s gaze drifted. Her red lips parted slightly, but she hesitated. “No… nothing…”

The expression on Shen Xiaojiang’s face cooled inch by inch. A coward was a coward, always the same. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She looked down and began wiping the dirt from Chen Yi’s foot.

When she had carried Chen Yi earlier, Shen Xiaojiang had suspected it, she had lost weight.

With this thought, Shen Xiaojiang’s fingertips brushed against Chen Yi’s qipao. The fabric was silky yet textured. She stopped when she reached the side of the older woman’s leg. Squatting down again, Shen Xiaojiang grasped the slender ankle dangling before her and pulled it slightly toward her chest.

Chen Yi weighed barely ninety pounds. Her ankle was delicate, like a piece of snow white lotus root utterly captivating. The off white qipao draped loosely over her jade-like legs, offering glimpses of their shape and the way they were positioned.

When the cool, damp tissue touched the sole of her foot, Chen Yi flinched. Whether it was from a tickle or the cold, she wasn’t sure.

The “little puppy” was still as attentive as ever, yet that obsessive, passionate warmth was gone. A wave of sadness washed over Chen Yi. One of her hands braced against the cold marble counter while the other gripped the hem of her skirt. She wanted to lift it but wasn’t sure if she should. If she did, she wasn’t wearing safety shorts.

Thinking of the two strangers in the stairwell earlier, Chen Yi’s face flushed hot. Sitting like this was truly very strange.

“Don’t move,” Shen Xiaojiang said, pulling the retreating ankle back toward her. “I’ll be quick.”

The words felt familiar, but the environment, the atmosphere, and their states of mind had all changed. Outside, the wind continued its reckless assault. A few drops of water leaked from the faucet, and the faint sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Chen Yi looked at the closed door, then at the top of Shen Xiaojiang’s head. She slowly reached out, her hand hovering in the air as if stroking Shen Xiaojiang’s hair. The little puppy used to love it when she did that.

Suddenly, Shen Xiaojiang let go and stood up. As if struck by an electric shock, Chen Yi yanked her hand back and pressed it against her qipao. She blinked rapidly in guilt, her fingers tightening until the fabric wrinkled.

“Bai Shuhua is very capable at her job, but… she isn’t a person who stays committed for long.” After saying this, Chen Yi immediately regretted it.

What was she doing? She was acting like a villain, whispering malice behind someone’s back. She had survived on the edge of a blade, she had learned to flatter and deceive she was a “bad person,” but she shouldn’t be this kind of bad person.

“I didn’t mean…”

“Idiot,” Shen Xiaojiang interrupted.

Chen Yi was truly strange. Instead of asking questions properly, she just sat there overthinking everything. What had she and Bai Shuhua even done to make Chen Yi jump to such a misunderstanding? It was both infuriating and ridiculous.

“You,” Shen Xiaojiang suppressed her frustration, “you don’t know me at all. You are a complete and utter idiot.”

“Don’t be disrespectful,” Chen Yi said, her expression pained and embarrassed.

“Oh? How am I being disrespectful?”

“Calling me an idiot… and earlier in the stairwell, you called me…” Chen Yi trailed off, unsure if she should continue.

“Called you what?” Shen Xiaojiang leaned her hands on the mottled marble counter, trapping Chen Yi in her shadow. She spoke slowly, her voice low and mesmerizing: “Called you ‘Xiao Qi’?”

Chen Yi didn’t speak. Her eyelashes trembled. When those two words came out of Shen Xiaojiang’s mouth, they sounded different than when spoken by anyone else.

“I didn’t,” Shen Xiaojiang said calmly. She pulled back and turned to the side to rinse the tissue under the faucet again.

“You’re lying,” Chen Yi glared at her.

“I am not,” Shen Xiaojiang said, emphasizing each word as she cleared her throat.

If the older woman could lie, why couldn’t she?

“How can you prove it?” Chen Yi dug her nails into her palm.

The clear water washed over Shen Xiaojiang’s hand, swirling around her wrist bone before splashing into the basin. The white tissue was crumpled in her hand, then smoothed out, then crumpled again. It looked exactly like a certain hidden fold on someone’s body changing only according to the movement of Shen Xiaojiang’s fingers.

“How do you want me to prove it?” Shen Xiaojiang didn’t stop what she was doing, nor did she look at Chen Yi.

The mood was half stubbornness, half coldness.

Chen Yi was stunned. She didn’t actually want Shen Xiaojiang to prove anything, and she certainly didn’t know how she could prove it. She looked down at the younger woman’s long, beautiful fingers and fell silent.

A few seconds later, Shen Xiaojiang turned off the tap and wrung out the excess water.

“Come, let me wipe it one more time,” she said, squatting down again.

Chen Yi still struggled with the sudden ticklish sensation, but she tried her best not to show it, letting Shen Xiaojiang have her way. This… was actually quite nice. This “under-age” hunter was so meticulous in everything she did that Chen Yi couldn’t bear to disturb her.

Shen Xiaojiang stared at Chen Yi’s pale foot, where faint blue veins traced the skin like a piece of high-quality white mutton-fat jade. Her voice was devoid of emotion, somewhere between a cross examination and a confirmation: “What exactly did you mean by what you said just now?”

“I… I was just reminding you. Her… her romantic history is more extensive than yours.” Speaking such overstepping words, Chen Yi lost her confidence.

By what right?

Chen Yi was clearly jealous, yet she acted so righteous, as if she had every right to be. Shen Xiaojiang wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

She stopped all movement. Her voice remained flat: “In what capacity are you trying to control me right now?”