I Struggle to Survive in a Girl Group [Transmigration] - Chapter 45

On the spacious double bed, a slender figure was wrapped in a soft cotton quilt. Her hair was disheveled, and her face bore a sickly pallor.

After a moment, the person lying on the bed turned over and drowsily opened her eyes.

The bedroom was dark,
with thick blackout curtains drawn tightly shut,
not a sliver of light seeping through.

In the dimness, Wen Ling fumbled to switch on the bedside lamp.
A soft glow illuminated a small area around her.

She picked up her phone from the side and checked the time.
5:30 p.m.

There were two unread messages on WeChat,
both from Yi Zhuo.

One was sent at noon: “Take your medicine and rest for a while.”
The other was from half an hour ago: “Are you awake?”

Wen Ling typed a reply: “I’m awake.”

After taking her medicine at noon, drowsiness had quickly washed over her.
She had collapsed into sleep and didn’t wake until now.

Even though she had slept the entire afternoon, her head still felt heavy and muddled, and her body was weak and limp, devoid of energy.

Wen Ling rarely fell ill and wasn’t quite used to feeling so frail.

She casually tossed her phone aside, threw a coat over her nightgown, and got out of bed. Walking to the table, she poured herself a cup of hot water and took a small sip.

Knock, knock.

Just then, the door was gently rapped.

A tentative female voice followed: “Captain?”

Wen Ling set down her cup and went to open the door.

Yi Zhuo stood at the doorway, her hair tied up, her smile bold and unrestrained. Even in loose loungewear, her beauty was striking and sharp.

In her hands, she carried a large tray bearing a steaming clay pot, with two bowls and pairs of chopsticks placed beside it.

Wen Ling: ?

She didn’t speak, resting her arm against the doorframe, her expression pausing for a moment.

Yi Zhuo smiled and, with practiced ease, stepped into the room, setting the tray down on the small table by the window.

She switched on the ceiling light, and a soft white glow instantly filled the room.

Then she turned and called out, “Come, have something to eat.”

Wen Ling closed the door, tightened her coat, and walked over.

She glanced at the clay pot on the table, her gaze indifferent and devoid of emotion.

“I’m not feeling well today, so I’m not up for it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Yi Zhuo looked at her with a complicated expression, sighed softly, and pulled her into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around Wen Ling’s slender waist, lowered her head slightly, and nuzzled against her forehead.

“You thought I came just to sleep with you?”

Wen Ling let herself be held, neither resisting nor responding further.

She looked up, her breath warm from the fever.

“Then why are you here?”

The arm around her waist stiffened slightly.

Yi Zhuo often felt that although Wen Ling was usually gentle and considerate toward others, there was a coldness to her core.

When others fell ill, they tended to become softer and more vulnerable, but Wen Ling, when sick, shed her usual gentle facade and turned somewhat sharp. Every cell in her body seemed to say I’m tired, I’m done pretending, don’t bother me.

Yet this stubborn version of Wen Ling made Yi Zhuo’s heart ache even more than usual.

So instead of letting go, Yi Zhuo held the person in her arms even tighter.

She whispered, “I missed you, so I came to see you.”

Wen Ling chuckled softly, “Didn’t we just see each other this morning, Mm.”

Mid-sentence, Yi Zhuo suddenly leaned down and captured her lips.

They often kissed, fervent and lingering, quickly stirring physical desire.

But today’s kiss felt different from the usual less aggressive, incredibly tender. Wen Ling instinctively tried to push Yi Zhuo away, her hand gripping Yi Zhuo’s arm, yet as she watched the other woman’s focused expression, eyes gently closed, her fingers curled hesitantly, and in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Yi Zhuo kissed her for a long time before finally stopping. Wen Ling, already weak, felt her legs go soft from the intensity, allowing herself to be held while her arm rested lightly on Yi Zhuo’s shoulder.

Noticing Wen Ling gradually relaxing, Yi Zhuo smiled faintly and leaned close to her ear, whispering, “Did you miss me, Captain?”

Wen Ling averted her gaze uncomfortably. “Don’t do this. You might catch it.”

“It’s fine,” Yi Zhuo replied softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Wen Ling’s ear. “Then I’ll get sick with you.”

Wen Ling sighed. “Stop fooling around. Let’s eat.”

Only then did Yi Zhuo release her hold on Wen Ling’s waist, happily guiding her to a chair before taking a seat opposite.

She lifted the lid of the clay pot, and the rich aroma of the soup wafted up, quickly filling the room.

Inside was a pork rib and Chinese yam soup, skimmed clean of any grease, with a few red goji berries floating on top—a visually appealing dish.

Wen Ling took a spoonful and tasted it, a look of surprise crossing her face.

“You made this?”

She usually didn’t pay much attention to food, often thinking most dishes tasted similar and were merely for sustenance.

But the soup in her bowl was exceptionally delicious, the savory flavor of the meat blended perfectly with the yam’s fragrance, rich yet not heavy, with a subtle hint of sweetness. Everything was just right.

Yi Zhuo grinned at her. “Who else?”

She was no pampered young lady; during tougher times, she had honed her cooking skills to save money.

Wen Ling took a couple more sips and commented, “It’s really good.”

She scooped up a piece of tender, fall-off-the-bone rib and tasted it. It melted in her mouth, making her immediately reach for another.

“If you like it, have more. I can cook for you often.”

Seeing Wen Ling’s bowl nearly empty, Yi Zhuo quickly refilled it. “But don’t eat too much today. You’re still sick.”

Wen Ling nodded. “Understood.”

Wen Ling hadn’t originally planned to let Yi Zhuo stay the night, but as the saying goes, one who accepts food or favors is in no position to refuse. So when Yi Zhuo finished cleaning up and knocked on her door again, she let her in.

Yi Zhuo closed the door, then suddenly bent down and scooped Wen Ling into her arms.

Startled, Wen Ling exclaimed, “You ”

Ignoring her, Yi Zhuo strode to the bed and tucked her firmly under the covers.

Sitting by the bedside, she pointed to the jacket nearby. “You’re not fully recovered yet. Why didn’t you put that on before getting up?”

Wen Ling was taken aback for a moment.

The person beside the bed was close, lips pressed together, narrow eyes fixed intently on her.

Since being elected captain, she had always been the one managing others. Being managed by someone else felt strangely unfamiliar.

Hesitantly, she replied, “My fever’s gone.”

Yi Zhuo reached out and felt her forehead. As she moved, a few strands of her long hair slipped down, resting against her delicate collarbone.

“It’s gone, but you still need to be careful.”

She looked at the damp traces still lingering in Wen Ling’s hair and frowned. “Did you take a shower?”

Wen Ling, seeing her serious expression, felt an unusual twinge of guilt.

“I was sweating too much, it was uncomfortable,” she steadied herself and replied. “Besides, I guessed you’d come tonight, just in case you wanted…”

She didn’t like owing others. Since she had accepted the other’s care, it was only right to offer something in return.

“What are you even thinking?” Yi Zhuo sighed, tucking in the corner of the quilt as she spoke. “I’m going to wash up. Don’t cause any more trouble.”

The sound of running water soon echoed from the bathroom. Feeling a bit bored, Wen Ling got up and leaned against the headboard, scrolling through Weibo. Remembering what Yi Zhuo had mentioned earlier about their CP fans, she felt a sudden impulse and clicked into their CP super topic.

In the super topic community, “Rain After Clear Skies” had already surpassed “White Wind Chimes,” firmly securing the top spot. Meanwhile, her and Yi Zhuo’s super topic, “Love of Ice and Fire,” was currently ranked fifth.

Wen Ling lowered her gaze and quickly skimmed through the content.

“Thank you ‘Ghost Town Survival’ for letting this pair stick together from start to finish CP fans are fully satisfied!”

“I’m dying of laughter. The moment Wen Ling lost health points, Yi Zhuo was the most anxious.”

“How is it that the word ‘captain’ sounds so charming when it comes from Yi Zhuo’s mouth? (No shade to Shen Siqi intended.)”

“I can’t help but suspect that when Yi Zhuo says ‘captain,’ she’s actually thinking ‘wife’ in her heart.”

“The way they look at each other is so addictive I’m gone, wuwu!”

“Say it loud am I overthinking the word-guessing game or not?”

Hmm, trouble seems to be brewing.

Wen Ling calmly exited the super topic and opened her own Weibo, casually scrolling through the comments.

Sure enough, while the top comments were similar to before, many of Yi Zhuo’s toxic solo fans had also shown up, and their likes were not insignificant.

“What’s this? Is the aloof, unapproachable captain also relying on CP hype to ride on someone else’s popularity?”

“Now that ‘White Wind Chimes’ isn’t working anymore, you’ve set your sights on our Yi Zhuo?”

“Leave Yi Zhuo alone, let her shine on her own, thank you!”

“Look, Princess’s captain is still leeching off her members today! Tying herself to others for clout may she stay irrelevant forever!”

Same old tactics, nothing new.

They weren’t entirely wrong. Her popularity wasn’t as high as Yi Zhuo’s, so if they were to engage in CP hype, it would clearly be to her advantage.

But if things really blew up, Yi Zhuo’s popularity would likely take a hit too.

Wen Ling frowned, lost in thought as she stared at the screen, when suddenly her phone was snatched away by a slender hand.

Yi Zhuo, fresh from her shower, stood by the bed, her skin porcelain pale and still carrying the dampness of the water. With one hand, she toweled her hair, while the other scrolled through the comments on the screen.

Seeing her expression grow colder, Wen Ling advised, “Don’t take it to heart. We’ll just be more careful from now on.”

Yi Zhuo paused for a moment, then suddenly tossed the phone aside and climbed onto the bed.

She pulled the person on the bed into her arms, leaned in closer, and gently kissed those cool, detached eyes.

“Be careful about what?”

Wen Ling, nestled in her embrace, looked up at her and replied calmly, “Be careful to keep my distance from you.”

Netizens have short memories. As long as they acted more distant in future programs, the previous hints of ambiguity would soon be forgotten.

A tingling sensation spread from her lips as Yi Zhuo lowered his head and nipped her mouth with just the right pressure, leaving a faint mark behind.

“Are you trying to drive me mad?”

Wen Ling: ?

What had she said wrong?

Yi Zhuo rested his chin atop her forehead, holding her carefully as if cradling a cherished treasure, his gaze tender and reverent.

After a long while, she let out a soft sigh.

“Captain, it’s too late.”