After the Real Young Miss Became My Canary - Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Song Zhi instinctively held her breath. Warm air wafted across the side of her face, fine and close.

She stared intently at Shen Ying, who stared back. They were mere inches apart, nose to nose, eye to eye, their breaths gradually intertwining. The air seemed to grow thick and scorching.

But neither dared to look away first, bound by an unspoken agreement: whoever broke eye contact first, lost.

Yet, there was no referee in feelings, no winning or losing; their own hearts were the best answer.

In Shen Ying’s faint gaze, Song Zhi tried to find the answer she had always craved: Does she like women? Does she like me? But Shen Ying, as always, appeared aloof and detached, giving no hint. All Song Zhi saw in her calm eyes was her own reflection.

A reflection of herself, bewildered and desperately seeking an answer.

After two minutes, Shen Ying finally spoke amidst the entanglement of their breaths: “I’m going to get the salt shaker.”

The entwined breaths scattered at once. Song Zhi’s intense gaze suddenly became lost.

“Oh.” Song Zhi disappointedly stepped aside, making room for Shen Ying.

Shen Ying’s eyes held a smile as she looked at her, but she did not move as Song Zhi expected. She remained standing there, in front of Song Zhi. Her slender arm reached over Song Zhi to pick up the salt shaker.

The section of the wall where the salt shaker was kept was used for all these small items. Song Zhi had assumed Shen Ying would walk over and, to make way for her, she had plastered herself defenselessly against the wall in the narrow space. But this infuriating person still wouldn’t move.

Song Zhi was completely blocked between Shen Ying and the wall, unable to move, and she felt a surge of annoyance.

If she weren’t afraid of making her angry, she would have already…

Shen Ying noticed Song Zhi’s slight disappointment and raised an eyebrow: “What are you thinking?”

Song Zhi looked at her innocently: “Nothing.”

Shen Ying generously admitted her mistake: “Alright, I thought too much.”

Now it was Song Zhi’s turn to look at her, and then look at her again. Shen Ying was still standing in front of her. Shen Ying wasn’t looking at her, but was intently fiddling with the salt shaker in her hand.

Shen Ying treated the object, which she had surely used for ages, like a stranger, twisting the lid on and off several times. Her solemn expression suggested she was about to write a magnum opus on the potential molecular entanglement between salt and oxygen molecules within the atomic structure of polyester fiber.

Shen Ying usually wouldn’t admit she was wrong because she would consider the cause and effect of an action multiple times before doing it, ensuring she achieved her goal. Whether it was considered “wrong” in others’ eyes was not within her scope of consideration.

An apology was usually just a product of her reluctance to argue and waste time.

But this time was different. Looking at Shen Ying’s clear eyes, Song Zhi had a strong feeling that the apology was sincere.

Watching Shen Ying’s idle fiddling, an idea suddenly dawned on Song Zhi.

Like a thunderclap on a clear day, she was startled by her own thought. Immediately afterward, she rejected it herself.

Impossible. How could that be?!

She watched Shen Ying twisting the lid, but after several turns, she couldn’t align the tiny salt hole with the single slot in the plastic lid.

If only she gave me a hint.

Song Zhi thought, I don’t need much. I just need that little hint. Then I wouldn’t be afraid of anything, wouldn’t care about anything.

But she didn’t get the hint she needed to move forward.

Song Zhi silently took the shaker from Shen Ying’s hand. Holding it up to the light, a gentle twist aligned the tiny hole instantly. She handed the shaker back to Shen Ying: “Done.”

Shen Ying took the shaker and expressionlessly asked Song Zhi to leave.

For some reason, Song Zhi felt that Shen Ying’s otherwise normal expression was screaming four words:

Furious and flustered.

The Phone Call

Shen Ying slammed the salt shaker back in place. The plastic container hit the wall with a jarring sound due to the force.

She wondered again, was her display not obvious enough?

Considering her actions, she didn’t think so. That left only one answer—

Song Zhi doesn’t like women.

But if she didn’t like them, why did she ask her?

Homophobic? Afraid she might make a move on her?

Should she cut her losses now? She didn’t know. Perhaps a relationship between them was never possible; perhaps it should end here. She shouldn’t have delusionally hoped to use Song Zhi for revenge. She was too fanciful.

Shen Ying picked up the shaker again. It had only been set down for a minute, and the heat from being covered for so long had already dissipated. Now the cold container pressed against her palm.

She had very little, and she asked for very little, but she wouldn’t leave empty-handed. That would make her look too pathetic and too noble. She had never been a noble person.

When she started something, she needed a result. She was not a philanthropist.

Knock-knock-knock.

Shen Ying turned abruptly. The object in her hand dropped to the floor with a clatter in her haste.

She stared blankly at the doorway.

Song Zhi was standing there, arms crossed, leaning crookedly against the door like a boneless snake. Seeing Shen Ying turn and seeing the shaker she had indirectly caused to fall to the floor, she rubbed her nose sheepishly and gave an embarrassed smile: “Need any help?”

Shen Ying looked at Song Zhi again. She was so vibrant. A thriving life force radiated from her, filling the space around her.

Meeting Shen Ying’s cold gaze, Song Zhi felt she had come at a very inopportune time.

And the probability of being kicked out was ninety-nine percent.

Shen Ying: “Bring the dishes over.”

Song Zhi immediately stopped her wall-clinging acrobatics and properly picked up the recently stir-fried dishes.

She was happy to carry dishes, as long as she wasn’t left alone. Otherwise, she would always be reminded of the fact that she was just an outsider.

She had once heard Xie Chu say that when Xie Chu visited relatives she liked, like her grandmother’s house, she would help her grandmother prepare the lunch she loved.

Xie Chu said it was actually very happy.

Song Zhi felt this was indeed happy. Both people had something to do, and neither would ignore the other.

In this mundane busyness, Song Zhi often had an illusion: she felt as if she had been living here with Shen Ying for a long time, and they could continue to live here forever.

Just as Song Zhi set down the dishes, the phone rang.

She was still happy, so she answered the phone without much caution.

“Where are you now?”

Song Zhi stiffened completely. Her back subconsciously straightened and tensed, forming a familiar arc practiced thousands of times.

Only then did she realize she was not under Song Guan’s watchful eye.

She didn’t want Shen Ying to hear Song Guan’s voice. She took the phone and walked to the other corner of the small living room. As she passed the kitchen, she saw Shen Ying through the tiny gap where the curtain didn’t meet the wall Shen Ying, whose expression was cold but softened by the hazy steam.

She stopped at the farthest point from the kitchen in this cramped space.

Song Zhi let out a long breath, and only when she was sure she wouldn’t lose control did she speak: “What do you want?”

Song Guan: “Two months is almost up.”

If he hadn’t mentioned it, Song Zhi would have forgotten.

The HKU military training was one month, and school had been in session for one month. She had been staying at Shen Ying’s place for one and a half months. Time was running out.

Song Zhi hummed, indicating she knew.

Song Guan continued: “Where are you?”

Song Zhi: “I’m alive. Don’t worry yourself, CEO Song.”

Song Guan: “The Xie family is hosting a banquet three days from now. You must go. Don’t embarrass me.”

With that, he hung up before Song Zhi could answer, clearly afraid she would immediately say she wouldn’t go.

The Xie family hosting a banquet? The only possibility was to welcome Xie Chu back. Although the Xie and Song families were related by marriage, the Xie family was always a step below the Song family. Furthermore, after Song Zhi’s grandmother died, Song Guan neglected to maintain the relationship, and the two families were ostensibly no longer close on Song Guan’s side.

Why would Song Guan specifically ask her to attend the banquet? No matter how much Song Guan disliked Song Zhi, she represented the Song family publicly. Interfamily connections were a subtle art, revolving around rank, whether they were in the same tier, and the extent of their current and future cooperation.

The Xie family was completely irrelevant to the Song family on these points.

Why would Song Guan suddenly do this? She suddenly thought of the relative in Yanjing that Xie Chu mentioned last time she was home.

She would ask Xie Chu later, she thought.

“What are you doing standing there? Dinner’s ready.” Shen Ying saw this scene as she came out of the kitchen with bowls in hand.

Song Zhi was standing in the corner of the living room farthest from the kitchen. The light in that corner was the dimmest in the whole room. She was standing with her back to the kitchen. From Shen Ying’s perspective, she could only see Song Zhi’s fair chin under the dim light, which had a porcelain-like quality contrasted against her dark hair.

She held the phone to her ear, her entire body, from her sharp jawline to the back of her hand, appearing tense.

Like an arrow about to leave the bow, the string pulled to its most perfect arc.

Shen Ying’s heart skipped a beat. Just as she was about to speak, she saw Song Zhi’s hand slowly drop. The tension suddenly collapsed, and then she stared at the corner of the wall, remaining motionless and silent for a long time. Shen Ying didn’t know what she was thinking, but she was very afraid.

She clearly realized she had to do something.

So she said: “Song Zhi.”

Song Zhi turned her head, wearing a beaming smile.

Shen Ying’s racing heart finally eased.

Song Zhi quickly walked over, snatched the bowls and chopsticks from Shen Ying’s hand just as they were about to be placed on the table, and then painstakingly performed the last step—setting the table.

Not only that, but she also played the victim: “Why didn’t you call me?”

Shen Ying was slightly amused.

This Song Zhi. She offered to help, then wandered off halfway, and now guiltily came back to arrange the bowls that were already being set, clearly bored.

Shen Ying: “I didn’t make your portion anyway. It shouldn’t matter whether I call you or not.”

Song Zhi lifted her fingers, counted twice on the table, counted back and forth again, but it was clear that no matter how many times she counted, there were two sets of bowls and chopsticks on the table.

Song Zhi asked knowingly: “That’s strange. Why are there two sets of bowls and chopsticks?”

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