After Running Away From Her Wedding, The Tsundere Young Lady Went Crazy - Chapter 8

“Opening a Room!?”

Once inside the amusement park, Ji Songshu suppressed the pain in her heart as she rejected the chance to take a photo with a “Toast Cat” mascot. Holding back her true feelings, she asked Shang Keyu, “What do you want to play?”

Before Shang Keyu could answer, a roar erupted from directly above their heads.

A roller coaster streaked past, screams echoing one after another. Suddenly, a cell phone plummeted from the sky. Ji Songshu twisted her body in a flash, narrowly dodging the projectile.

“Let’s start with this roller coaster,” Shang Keyu suggested.

Ji Songshu felt as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning.

The Carbohydrate Encounter Roller Coaster was the second most famous attraction in Beletopia Park. Its highest point reached 56 meters, with a top speed of 187 kilometers per hour.

Ji Songshu stared at the steel tracks twisted into a Mobius strip and swallowed hard.

“Don’t worry, this roller coaster has had a zero percent accident rate for fifteen years,” Shang Keyu introduced.

Fifteen years? This thing is fifteen years old? Ji Songshu recalled news she had seen about passengers being left hanging upside down on roller coasters and couldn’t help but shudder.

Keyword identified: The Hanged Man.

The Hanged Man is the thirteenth card of the Tarot’s Major Arcana. Using this to divine your love fortune, the cards show that your path to romance may experience some fluctuations. Appropriate intimate behavior can break through obstacles and close the distance between you. After the crisis is resolved, your relationship will make immense progress, sailing smoothly from then on, with all your wishes coming true as you spend the rest of your lives together.

Ji Songshu was speechless. If her heart rate accelerated enough for her to drop dead on the roller coaster right now, she supposed that would count as “spending the rest of her life” with Shang Keyu.

Despite this, she still didn’t say a word of rejection.

The flow of people in the park wasn’t heavy; they didn’t even need to queue before boarding the ride.

Shang Keyu chose the front row and turned to ask Ji Songshu for her opinion. Ji Songshu beat a retreat in her heart a hundred times and made up eight hundred lame excuses, but under Shang Keyu’s gaze, she ultimately chose to risk her life to accompany her.

The tracks went “clack-clack-clack.” The coaster rose continuously as the wind rushed toward them. Ji Songshu was strapped into her seat by the safety belt, getting closer and closer to the sky.

The suspended tracks were only a narrow strip, and the car was much wider than the rails. Sitting on the far right, her body was completely suspended outside the tracks.

Looking down, there was nothing beneath her feet—just dozens of meters of empty air with no buffer and no support.

She felt her heart thud violently; her legs were so numb they lost all sensation, and she even found it difficult to breathe. She looked to her side for help, but Shang Keyu was composed, gazing down at the entire park without even a furrow in her brow.

“Shang Keyu, what should I do? I’m a little sca—AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH—”

The car began to flip and spin 720 degrees. In an instant, Ji Songshu became egg-fried rice in an oily wok—constantly tossed, launched, and stir-fried. Her internal organs were shaken so thoroughly that every “grain” was evenly coated in “egg.”

It wasn’t until the roller coaster came to a steady stop that she sat there, eyes vacant and spirit shaken, waiting for her soul to catch up from behind.

She had no idea how she got off the roller coaster. Her legs were jelly, her steps were hollow, and her soul had left her body. It seemed Shang Keyu had helped her down, but it also felt like she had floated down herself.

After a bout of heart-wrenching dry heaving into a trash can, Ji Songshu finally felt a faint sense of being alive.

Shang Keyu patted her back to help her catch her breath, apologizing in a low voice: “I didn’t think you’d feel this miserable. If you didn’t want to ride it, you could have told me. I wouldn’t have forced you.”

“I didn’t want to spoil your fun.” Ji Songshu tried her best to suppress the nausea in her throat, looking at Shang Keyu with watery eyes. “Why do you look like you didn’t feel anything at all?”

“I’ve had special training, so my adaptability is a bit better.”

“Special training? Did you learn to fly planes in Hawaii?” Ji Songshu complained.

“I learned that in Naples,” Shang Keyu replied.

Ji Songshu was momentarily speechless. “Can you go buy a bottle of water for me?”

As Shang Keyu walked toward the convenience store, she took a phone call:

“Mhm… just follow what we discussed before, don’t give an inch… I should be done here in about two hours, then I’ll head over immediately.”

She bought the water and strolled back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small booth nearby. A screen was cycling through captured photos of tourists on the roller coaster, and it just happened to show her row.

The girl beside her had her lips pursed and eyes wide, wearing an expression of “noble sacrifice and facing death with equanimity.” The sight made Shang Keyu chuckle.

She asked, “Can you print this photo for me?”

Ji Songshu had finally finished retching. She leaned against a bench, clutching her waist and slumped over as if she had lost her soul.

“DeepLove, I ended up dry heaving on the first date. What do you think my chances of a successful conquest are?”

Probability is just a number; please do not lose heart.

Ji Songshu let out a ghostly sigh, the taste of stomach acid returning to her mouth.

In the distance, she saw Shang Keyu approaching with the water. She looked as if she had seen her savior, hurriedly snatching the water and taking several large gulps before finally regaining her composure, breathing heavily.

Seeing her state, Shang Keyu suggested, “If you’re still feeling unwell, there’s a resort hotel in the park. Do you want to go open a room and rest for a bit?”

The entire sentence landed in Ji Songshu’s ears, but only two words remained—two vital words:

Open a room!?

Ji Songshu felt as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning. She froze on the spot, her hand loosening as the water bottle crashed to the ground, the water gurgling out.

In an instant, her mind was a chaotic mess of collapsing thoughts.

Ye Qingyu’s words were the first to surface: “If the other person tries to take you to a hotel, you must never agree.”

Then came the image of the hospital’s stark white walls and her sister’s pale, haggard face.

Finally, there was Deep Love’s love divination: (Appropriate intimate behavior can break through obstacles and close the distance… your wishes will come true!)

After a long silence, she took a deep breath, looking as if she had made a momentous decision.

“Let’s go. Let’s go open a room.”