After the Real Young Miss Became My Canary - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: A Little Closer

Shen Ying took the clothes, sat up straight, then turned her head to the side as if nothing had happened, making a point of not looking at Song Zhi, lifted the curtain, and walked out.

Song Zhi’s mind was still immersed in that moment of tenderness. Every cell in her body screamed and longed for Shen Ying to turn back. That longing was emanating from her very soul. It was no exaggeration to say that if she hadn’t retained a sliver of rationality, she would have chased after Shen Ying and fiercely hugged her.

But the last bit of her reason stopped the thought.

For her right now, Shen Ying’s kindness was something that could be withdrawn at any time, something she had gained through underhanded means, and it couldn’t last. She wanted it to last. She didn’t want just this moment!

To make it last, she had to be patient.

She watched the hand that lifted the curtain—fair, slender, and distinctly jointed. But next to the hand, slightly lower than it, the ear was so red it looked as if it would bleed.

Looking at that flushed ear, she suddenly felt a sense of relief.

So, she wasn’t completely one-sided after all. So, she was different from the cats and dogs.

And she didn’t have to guess; she knew she was the first person Shen Ying had ever taken in.

That fact alone made her different.

Song Zhi quickly and happily finished her bath.

There was no shower at Shen Ying’s place. She had to use a long scoop to pour water from a bucket, boiling water and mixing it with cold water to bathe. This was quite difficult for Song Zhi with only one usable hand. Fortunately, she bathed early today and the faucet still had cold water; otherwise, she would have to crouch on the floor with a bucket of scorching water, bitterly waiting for it to cool.

After showering, Song Zhi instinctively headed towards the sofa, after all, that’s where she had been sleeping all these days at Shen Ying’s house.

Besides, she shouldn’t push her luck now, or she’d become annoying. Shen Ying was a person with strong defenses. Reaching their current closeness had taken ninety steps from Song Zhi’s side. The remaining ten steps would require a hundred or even a thousand times the effort and time as the previous ones.

With Shen Ying, she had to take it slow. She had an internal scale that could measure and calculate the weight of all things.

However, the sofa was empty, with only the small pillow and blanket she usually used. It wasn’t impossible to sleep there, but it was now mid-November and it would definitely be cold in the middle of the night. Besides, she had one more reason to talk to Shen Ying a conversation Shen Ying couldn’t refuse.

Song Zhi pinched her voice in her nasal cavity: “Shen Ying, where are the blankets?”

This way, her voice would sound a little softer.

She couldn’t help but applaud her own little trick.

Shen Ying smoothed the final corner of the quilt and then stepped back.

The bed currently presented this picture:

Two quilts, one blue and one black, distinctly separated by the center line of the bed.

Since she had decided this was the last time, she might as well be kinder to Song Zhi. Song Zhi had done so much for her; she should leave her with a good memory.

Just then, Song Zhi’s voice rang out.

She replied flatly, “They’re here.”

She could enter Shen Ying’s room again! A little bit of happiness.

She tiptoed, walking softly. Using the doorframe for support, she quietly stood at the doorway and peeked in. Shen Ying inside was meticulously tucking in the corners of the quilt. After finishing, she straightened up, her back straight, slender, and flowing in line. She stared at the quilt as if lost in thought, so focused that one couldn’t bear to interrupt.

So, leaning against the wall, she watched Shen Ying in that posture for a good while.

Shen Ying didn’t turn her head, but it was as if she had eyes in the back of her head: “Come in.”

Song Zhi walked into the room: “I clearly walked without making a sound. How did you find out?”

Shen Ying didn’t know whether to describe the person as too childlike or immature. After thinking for a while, she decided to be gentle.

She said, “Immature.”

Song Zhi puffed out her cheeks, greatly unconvinced: “I just didn’t want to disturb you. How is that immature?”

Shen Ying turned around and chuckled. At that moment, Song Zhi saw her eyes full of mirth. Those eyes, already slightly upturned like they held water, were now rippling as if kissed by the spring breeze.

Shen Ying kindly reminded her: “Song Zhi, I stopped using the trick of hiding by the door to scare people when I was three.”

Song Zhi quietly grumbled: “I’ve never used it. Can’t I try it now?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Shen Ying’s smile disappeared, but her expression was by no means indifferent. Her naturally light-colored eyelashes lowered gently, as if she felt pity: “I’m sorry.”

To be pitied by someone was a wonderful feeling, one that could generate infinite happiness. But after the initial joy, Song Zhi felt regret. Shen Ying’s light eyes, filled with a smile, kept appearing in her mind again and again.

She had always been a person of her word, “one is one, two is two,” never regretting anything she said, and certainly never making promises. Once she promised or decided to do something, no matter how wrong or regrettable it was, she would definitely do it.

But now, looking at Shen Ying, she had a rare moment of regret.

She would rather make Shen Ying happy than have her pity her.

Because she didn’t care about these things herself; she only said them to elicit sympathy and pretend to be pitiful. But Shen Ying didn’t know that. She genuinely thought Song Zhi was upset about it and truly felt sad for her.

Another person was completely empathizing with her. The moment this thought appeared in her mind, a wave of unspeakable joy and satisfaction rose within her. This happiness was even greater than the joy of being pitied by Shen Ying.

Song Zhi was happy inside but still unyielding with her words. She acted magnanimously: “Forget it, I won’t hold it against you. Where’s my quilt?”

Shen Ying, having been “forgiven” by her, offered no thanks and replied flatly, “On the bed.”

The rebellious streak in Song Zhi’s heart resurfaced.

She thought, she should have let her feel pity for her a little longer.

As she thought this, she walked towards the bed, where she saw two neatly arranged quilts.

The quilts were side-by-side on the center line of the bed, each occupying half the space. She froze.

Logically, quilts lying peacefully here should mean the host was inviting the guest to sleep together.

But the person she was facing was Shen Ying. Shen Ying, with her highly-developed sense of compassion, had an ever-changing mind.

Song Zhi was momentarily unsure: was Shen Ying just fond of neatly folding the quilts and waiting for someone to take them away, or did she mean to sleep with her?

Moreover, she didn’t understand her current status in Shen Ying’s heart. Was this just a response made in a moment of urgency at the hospital, while she secretly still despised her, or was it something else?

With all this uncertainty, she didn’t dare to act rashly.

Every step she took now was stolen. She deeply remembered this and repeatedly told herself that she was no different from walking a tightrope high in the air.

This made her even more cautious.

Perhaps her silence was too long, Shen Ying said: “The quilts are here. Where are you going to sleep?”

Song Zhi blinked, her almond eyes glistening: “Where can I sleep?”

Shen Ying: “Up to you.”

Up to her.

Song Zhi vaguely pondered the meaning of these two words and was then overwhelmed by the simple beauty they represented.

Her mind was too clogged with sweet goo to think clearly, so she tentatively said: “Then I want to sleep on the bed.”

The quilt was meant for her anyway. Shen Ying naturally had no objection. She nodded, then lifted the quilt and climbed into the inner side of the bed.

She liked to sleep perfectly straight on her back, but with someone lying on the outer side now, she felt a little uncomfortable and turned onto her side.

Song Zhi lay on the outer side, her eyes fixed on Shen Ying’s back.

Even now, Song Zhi still felt it wasn’t real. She felt like she was wrapped in a bubble, radiating colorful light as the sunlight refracted, and then slowly ascending.

Her feet were still unable to touch solid ground.

This sense of unreality only subsided when the rain started drizzling outside. Then she felt grounded.

The bedroom was small. Even though the window was the farthest point from the bed, a cool breeze mixed with fine rain still drifted in from the slightly ajar window crack.

The thread-like rain drifted onto Song Zhi’s cheek. Her bewildered, pounding heart finally returned to earth.

It finally stopped thumping in her chest like an idiot.

She looked at the falling rain, blinking. The raindrops that landed on her eyelashes slid down the curve and into her eyes.

It was astringent.

She wanted to close the window.

The bed was a bit small. She was only resting on half her side, while the other half was suspended over the edge of the bed. It was fine for a short while, but now half her body was numb.

Song Zhi could only sit up slowly. When she sat up, Shen Ying’s breathing on the other side grew shallow. She immediately didn’t dare to move again.

She waited for several minutes. When there was no movement on the other side and the breathing gradually stabilized, she finally dared to get out of bed.

When she lifted her leg off the bed, the old bunk bed uncooperatively let out an unpleasant creak.

Song Zhi jumped in surprise and didn’t dare to move for a long time. After a while, she went to the window and closed it tightly.

She had to be quiet, and she couldn’t see clearly. This was a bit difficult for her, who suffered from nyctalopia (night blindness).

She walked towards the window with a slight sense of fear, carefully avoiding places where things might be, based on memory.

Because of the rain, the moon was covered by clouds, and there wasn’t even the faint moonlight that could barely light the way.

She could only move forward with a bit of a blank mind. As she walked, the thought of Shen Ying being behind her made her suddenly less afraid.

Although she didn’t know what she was afraid of, perhaps the unknown in the darkness, or perhaps the woman with a face full of tears.

That was her mother, who had been dead for a long time.

Blood was fine; she was afraid of her face full of tears.

Shen Ying had been awake since Song Zhi got up. The moment she sat up, the head of the bed lightened, and the deeply sleeping Shen Ying immediately became alert.

This was a habit she had developed since childhood.

Song Zhi lay back down on the bed. It wasn’t until she covered herself with the quilt that she noticed something was different from when she had left.

It was a hand a delicate, soft hand, cool to the touch, laid across her quilt, resting in front of her chest.

Song Zhi stared at the hand for a while, then reluctantly grasped the wrist for a moment. The hand felt soft. Her breathing instinctively quieted considerably at that moment. She was so frightened that she didn’t dare to touch it again, hurriedly tucking her hand back into the quilt.

It was then that she noticed all four corners of the quilt, which Shen Ying had tucked in before sleeping, were messed up. She slowly raised one hand, trying her best to make no sound, and tucked the four corners back in.

Only then did she reluctantly scoot inward a little.

This way, she could be a little closer to Shen Ying.

Support After the Real Young Miss Became My Canary