How Did The Young Lady Go Bankrupt? - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Kissed, But Only a Little

Duan Zishu was being slightly too obedient.

Instead of bending over, she simply sat down on the sofa, changing from someone a head taller to someone a head shorter than Lu Zhiyao. Now that Lu Zhiyao was the one looking down, she began to feel uncomfortable again.

How to put it? Kissing a cheek wasn’t exactly something worth worrying about, so she had intended to just brush it off perfunctorily. But the way Duan Zishu sat down so earnestly and stared right at her made it feel far too significant.

Lu Zhiyao felt a slight, subtle, nuanced, and microscopic bit of embarrassment. She thought to herself that it would have been better if Duan Zishu were a little uglier.

Even during the time they were genuinely dating back then, Lu Zhiyao had never been the one to initiate a kiss. It wasn’t just out of shyness; she had practically worshiped Duan Zishu like a fairy back then, and felt that any carnal desires would have been a blasphemy against a goddess. Even now, facing Duan Zishu’s request for a kiss, Lu Zhiyao still felt it broke the character she had built up. After all, the Duan Zishu of that time hadn’t seemed so obsessed with it.

Their first kiss had come without any warning. It was just a scene in a movie they were watching together; Duan Zishu hadn’t looked away, speaking in a flat, indifferent tone as if she didn’t care much at all.

“Have you ever tried it?”

Lu Zhiyao had been blindsided by the question, her brain turning into mush. She couldn’t feel anything except for the irritating thumping of her own heart. She had hurriedly denied it, as if she were in a rush to prove her loyalty.

“Are you curious?”

This time, Lu Zhiyao couldn’t even squeeze out a reply. Duan Zishu didn’t wait for an answer; she took her chin off her hand and shifted her lazy posture ever so slightly. “Let’s try it.”

It had felt as if it were truly just a spontaneous experiment. After that brief interlude, Duan Zishu went back to watching the movie and said nothing more. For a long time afterward, she never mentioned it again. Everything felt like it could have been Lu Zhiyao’s own hallucination.

Now, Lu Zhiyao placed a hand on Duan Zishu’s shoulder. If she had to bend over, this posture was more convenient for bracing herself. It was just a cheek kiss—speed was of the essence. Yet, thinking this, she remained motionless. She remembered back then, Duan Zishu had supported her shoulder just like this.

Back then, she had closed her eyes. But now wasn’t the right time to close her eyes; the distance was too great, and if she closed them, she wouldn’t be able to see anything. It would have been fine if Duan Zishu had closed her eyes, but she insisted on watching.

Lu Zhiyao sighed, lowered her head, and caught the faint scent of her. Hmm… the smell of various skincare products, blended together in perfect harmony, with not a hint of anything stinging.

Duan Zishu tilted her head slightly. “Lu Zhiyao, your hair is making me itchy,” she said.

“Could you be any more difficult…” Lu Zhiyao muttered, tucking the stray locks behind her ear. “Don’t go asking for rewards whenever you feel like it from now on.”

Having said that, Lu Zhiyao planted a light kiss on Duan Zishu’s cheek. It was only a fleeting touch, yet in that moment, she felt Duan Zishu’s grip tighten on her clothes.

“There.”

She had dithered for so long before the kiss, but afterward, she straightened up immediately, trying to dissipate the ambiguity that had emerged from thin air.

“Lu Zhiyao,” Duan Zishu looked much calmer, “you’re blushing.”

“It’s hot.” Responding with a blank expression, Lu Zhiyao regained her usual composure. “Go ahead and move your bedding to the sofa; we have to work tomorrow,” she said, before heading to the sofa to tidy her own things.

Duan Zishu didn’t show any further dissatisfaction, obediently following along to reorganize the bedding and swapping their sleeping spots. Once she helped Duan Zishu finish setting up the sofa, Lu Zhiyao straightened her back and pounded her sore waist. “Goodnight, then.”

Duan Zishu, however, grabbed her clothes. “What about the goodnight kiss we agreed on?”

Lu Zhiyao was stunned. “Didn’t we just kiss?”

“A goodnight kiss is for before sleep. You kissed me because I pointed at my cheek—how can that count as a goodnight kiss?”

Lu Zhiyao was speechless. Duan Zishu didn’t show the smugness of winning a semantic argument; instead, she hung her head as if aggrieved, shaking Lu Zhiyao’s sleeve.

“There’s no point in trying to find loopholes with me,” Lu Zhiyao said. “The final right of interpretation belongs to me.”

Finally getting to say that line herself, Lu Zhiyao chuckled inwardly, feeling like she had instantly aligned herself with those shady merchants who scam people during their events.

Duan Zishu continued to look at her with those pitiful eyes.

“It’s not working.”

“Fine.” Duan Zishu didn’t press the matter further. After all, she had already received one kiss; she had effectively gotten the reward. “Goodnight, Lu Zhiyao,” she said, lying down on the sofa. It was a bit narrow, and she wasn’t quite used to it.

Lu Zhiyao didn’t leave immediately. “Not bad,” she said. “You’ve learned what it means to quit while you’re ahead. Things aren’t like they used to be; throwing a tantrum won’t get you anywhere.”

With that, she leaned over once more, pushed the hair from Duan Zishu’s forehead, and planted another kiss. Unlike the cheek kiss, which was a fleeting touch, this one lingered for a moment.

“This is the reward.”

“Goodnight.”

Lu Zhiyao left, turning off the living room light on her way out.

Duan Zishu, who had been acting so composed, lay silently in the dark. After a long while, she suddenly pulled the quilt up over her head. She tossed and turned twice, and eventually, because she wasn’t used to the narrowness of the sofa, she fell off, getting stuck between the sofa and the coffee table.

Lu Zhiyao returned to her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought.

When she was young, she had many romantic notions, some even impractical. She loved stories that were flashy and tear-jerking, the more exaggerated and attention-grabbing, the better. But just a few years later, Lu Zhiyao seemed to have veered to the opposite extreme. She found those romantic things childish, and she found young couples in the honeymoon phase, brains addled by love, to be sickening.

Flowers, roses, kisses, blushing—didn’t it just feel embarrassing to hear about? She had occasionally thought about dating, but even if she were to date, there was no need to be constantly floating in pink bubbles. Thinking about holidays and the need for “a sense of ceremony” was exhausting. As for gifts and surprises, Lu Zhiyao only felt it was a waste of energy—not to mention the money, and the risk that the other person wouldn’t even like what you bought. And if you happened to forget an anniversary? That would be a capital offense.

She even despised herself for blushing just because of a cheek kiss. It shouldn’t be like this; it really shouldn’t.

Lu Zhiyao told herself that she wasn’t exactly living in some melodramatic, clichéd romance novel world; there was no need to keep pushing others away so stubbornly. If she reacted so strongly, and if she still liked her, then why not just get back together?

But another voice echoed in her mind: Are you really in a fit state to date right now?

Flowers, gifts, care, kisses—dating really is a troublesome business, isn’t it?

The two voices in her head tangled together, until a third voice slowly grew stronger: But Duan Zishu really is very beautiful.

“Ahem.”

Even though she had decided not to think about reconciliation anymore, her willpower was truly fragile—she couldn’t even withstand the slightest temptation.

Lu Zhiyao turned off the bedroom light.