After Running Away From Her Wedding, The Tsundere Young Lady Went Crazy - Chapter 9

“The person I want will never have the chance to escape.”

Ten minutes later, the two of them walked side by side down the hotel corridor. Ji Songshu intentionally slowed her pace, falling behind Shang Keyu.

The corridor was carpeted, making their footsteps soft and silent. While Ji Songshu appeared calm on the outside, her heart was in total turmoil, a chaotic roar of thoughts.

She had actually agreed to get a hotel room with Shang Keyu!

And, as if to confirm her suspicions, Shang Keyu had booked a room with a single large bed!

Reconstructing the scene from moments ago: initially, Shang Keyu wanted to book an executive suite, but the front desk said the hotel only had standard rooms. Shang Keyu immediately booked a room with a large bed, offering a very logical reason—

“You need to rest; I don’t. Do you really prefer sleeping in a small 1.2-meter bed?”

Ji Songshu thought to herself that 1.2 meters wasn’t exactly small—the bed in her own room was only seventy centimeters, so this was nearly double. However, on the surface, she simply nodded obediently, following behind Shang Keyu like a little tail, seemingly without any complaints.

In reality, while her mind wandered wildly, she was also quietly observing the person in front of her with bated breath.

Shang Keyu’s silhouette was upright and elegant. Her long hair, a mix of red and black, swayed behind her like a downward-burning ink-colored flame.

Ji Songshu was very close to her, close enough to smell the faint fragrance clinging to her, which felt intoxicating.

After thinking in a daze for a while, she began to take a “whatever happens, happens” attitude: I’m already here. If I really get pushed onto the bed, I’ll deal with it then.

At worst… at worst, we just actually kiss. If my first kiss is with Shang Keyu, it’s not really a loss—after all, she is very beautiful.

Maybe the flora in her mouth can even extend my life or make me rich.

While Ji Songshu’s thoughts were drifting off into outer space, she kept walking forward, failing to notice when Shang Keyu stopped. She bumped headfirst into her.

Shang Keyu glanced back at her but said nothing.

Upon entering the room, it looked like an ordinary hotel room: business-style decor, a large white bed, a big black television. The only unique feature of the park was a half-person-sized Bagel Rabbit plushie sitting at the head of the bed.

Shang Keyu pressed down on the mattress with her hand, frowning slightly. “It’s barely passable for sleep.”

Ji Songshu swore she saw a flash of disdain pass across Shang Keyu’s face.

Judging by that level of disdain, she had probably overthought things. Ji Songshu let out a silent sigh of relief.

If Shang Keyu really wanted her to “attend” to her in bed, she would probably make her get a full-body beauty treatment first, soak in several rose petal baths, and then wrap her in a duvet once stripped naked before carrying her to a presidential suite.

The thought amused Ji Songshu, and she relaxed completely.

She plopped down on the mattress, pressing into it; it bounced back a few times and felt quite comfortable. She reached out to grab the plushie at the head of the bed. It was fluffy and felt wonderful to the touch. She buried her face in the plushie’s belly and took a deep breath—it smelled like sunshine.

“You’re so chubby,” she said to the plushie.

During check-in, the front desk had mentioned that the plushie at the head of the bed could be taken home, but Ji Songshu thought of her tiny room and felt there was no place to put it.

But a voice deep in her heart kept shouting: Take the plushie! Take the plushie!

To convince herself otherwise, she stared at the plushie’s face for a long time, finally picking out a flaw: there was an extra black thread sewn behind its ear.

“Lie down for a bit. I’ll go find some motion sickness medicine for you,” Shang Keyu said.

“Mm-hmm.”

Ji Songshu kicked off her shoes and lay down. The moment she hit the bed, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. Almost instantly, under Shang Keyu’s gaze, her consciousness blurred. Her cheek sank into the pillow, and a mist formed over her eyes.

Shang Keyu stared at her dazed face for a moment, remembered something, and reminded her: “If you’re going to sleep, take out your contact lenses.”

She helped Ji Songshu sit up. Ji Songshu was like a boneless doll, sitting there softly with her head drooping. Shang Keyu pinched her chin and lifted her face.

Looking at her face, Shang Keyu was momentarily stunned.

Two rows of thick, dense eyelashes; lips that were bright red and slightly parted; she looked like a beautiful porcelain doll.

As Shang Keyu helped her remove the lenses and gazed into those sea-blue eyes, her heart stirred. She murmured:

“So similar.”

Ji Songshu snapped awake instantly.

The inference from DeepLove further deepened her suspicion.

[Analyzing speech… Analysis complete: Your appearance reminds the other party of a specific person, possibly an ex-girlfriend, a ‘white moonlight’ (unrequited love), etc.]

This made Ji Songshu feel a bit disgusted. Those sea-blue eyes suddenly became turbulent like a stormy ocean.

“You aren’t using me as a substitute, are you?!”

“A substitute?” Shang Keyu let out a light laugh. “You really don’t know me at all.”

She locked her gaze firmly onto Ji Songshu, watching her. “The person I want will never have the chance to escape.”

“Then who were you saying I look like?” Ji Songshu was still huffy.

“You really want to know?” Shang Keyu arched an eyebrow.

“Super want to know!”

“Fine.”

“Your eyes look a lot like—” Shang Keyu intentionally teased her by pausing.

“Hurry up and say it,” Ji Songshu urged.

“Like a Ragdoll cat I used to raise.”

Ji Songshu’s eyes widened, and she was speechless. She had never expected that answer. She looked like a cat? How did she look like a cat? Did she have black and white patches on her face or something?

“Now you look even more like it.”

Ji Songshu slapped the hand away from her chin and fell back onto the bed, pulling the duvet over her face. She announced loudly, “I don’t want to be your cat! I’m going to sleep!”

Shang Keyu found it amusing and wanted to tease her more, but Ji Songshu stubbornly remained silent.

Upon closer inspection, she had actually fallen fast asleep while hugging the duvet, her breathing steady and even.

Falling asleep the moment you hit the bed is truly an enviable talent, Shang Keyu thought.

One moment her eyes were closed, the next they were open. She didn’t know how much time had passed.

Ji Songshu woke up groggily.

The room was dark and quiet.

She sat up in bed, her hair messy and her eyes bleary. She rubbed her eyes and scratched her head, taking a long time to fully wake up.

Checking her phone, it was already 5:30 PM. There was less than an hour until the park closed.

How did she sleep for so long?! Ji Songshu felt a surge of regret. She tried calling out Shang Keyu’s name, but there was no response.

Sure enough, since she had slept for so long on her own, Shang Keyu had already left… she had messed up the date!

Ji Songshu sat in the darkness, her spirit feeling heavy.

At that moment, the sound of the door lock clicking came from the entrance. The lights flicked on with a “snap,” and Shang Keyu walked in. Seeing Ji Songshu, she asked, “Had enough sleep?”

Having grown used to the darkness, Ji Songshu’s eyes were suddenly hit by the light. With an “ah,” she fell back onto the bed, covering her eyes. “I’m about to reveal my true form!”

“What true form?”

“Actually, I’m a sleepyhead bug,” Ji Songshu admitted her mistake. “I came out for a date, but ended up sleeping in bed all afternoon.”

She lifted her face and looked pleadingly at Shang Keyu. “How come you’re coming back from outside?”

“Did you expect me to watch you sleep all afternoon?” Shang Keyu sat down by the bed, looking perfectly natural. “Of course, I went out to play by myself.”

“What did you play?”

“Grain Dragon, Donut Turbo, Cereal Whirl… I played every single thing that could be played.”

Ji Songshu blinked, teasing, “I didn’t expect you to like this place even more than I do.”

Shang Keyu remained silent.

“I didn’t get to play anything today.” Ji Songshu bit her lip, feeling a bit aggrieved. But who could she blame? She was the one who crawled under the covers and fell asleep.

Suddenly, she had a flash of inspiration. She scrambled over to Shang Keyu’s side and suggested, “There’s a performance at the Smile Bagel Theater every hour on the dot. Let’s go see it! We can still catch the last show.”

“That show has been reduced to once a day. I just finished watching the final performance,” Shang Keyu added flatly, delivering a finishing blow.

Ji Songshu was hit hard. On the verge of tears, she wrapped herself back in the duvet and rolled around on the bed. Because her eyes were closed, she lost her sense of distance and rolled too far, bumping into Shang Keyu’s lower back.

“Sorry,” she apologized immediately.

Shang Keyu pulled her up. “Alright, we should go. The park is closing soon.”

Ji Songshu felt it was a pity. “Next time, I definitely have to make up for what I missed. Let’s come together again next time. I still have a Ferris wheel voucher I haven’t used.”

Shang Keyu pursed her lips and didn’t speak.

If Ji Songshu were familiar enough with her, she would have realized this was her habitual gesture when she felt guilty.

But Ji Songshu didn’t know. She just shuffled her feet behind Shang Keyu. Seeing the lonely amusement park in the sunset, the empty plaza, and a staff member inside a Bagel Rabbit suit taking off the headgear to reveal a face dripping with sweat, she felt an indescribable sadness.

At that moment, a hand tugged at her pants.

“Big sister,” a milky voice came from below.

Ji Songshu looked down. It was a little girl about five or six years old, with a face as delicate as carved jade, wearing a pink tutu and a small crown hair clip on her head.

She signaled for Shang Keyu to wait, then knelt down to be at eye level with the girl. She asked softly, “Little one, what’s wrong?”

“My grandma is lost,” the little girl said, then tilted her head back and began to wail.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ll help you find your grandma.” Ji Songshu frantically patted the little girl’s back. “What’s your name? How old are you?”

“My… my name is Yiyi. I’m ‘eight’ years old.”

Ji Songshu pointed at herself and then at Shang Keyu behind her. “Then this sister and I will take you to find your grandma, okay?”

“I don’t want that sister. she’s scary.”

Turning around, Ji Songshu saw Shang Keyu wrinkling her nose, her face full of disdain.

Ji Songshu gave her a reproachful look. “Please control your expression a bit and be gentler with children.”

“I hate ‘little people’ (miniature humans),” Shang Keyu said. “I find it strange. Are eight-year-olds really this noisy and stupid?”

Ji Songshu quickly reached out to cover Yiyi’s ears. “Don’t say that in front of a child. Also, stop pretending your Chinese is bad. They are called ‘children’ (xiaohai), not ‘little people’ (xiaoren).”