Shadowed Love: A Lover Who Refuses to Let Go - Chapter 34.1

She didn’t know how to handle this relationship. To Jiang Menghe, Yin Yunzhu was someone who simply didn’t fit anywhere. If Yin were to leave, Jiang might feel a sense of loss for a while; however, having her by her side was a better way to ease the emptiness.

Since that was the case, she might as well keep her in her heart for now. Jiang had grown accustomed to being alone, and she maintained a defensive attitude toward anyone who appeared suddenly and tried to disrupt the rhythm of her life.

Hearing the answer, Yin Yunzhu could hardly hide her disappointment. Yet, she knew her overstepping was no different from exposing her true feelings, handing the blade that could hurt her at any moment over to the other woman.

So, she changed the subject.

“Is the hospital still open this late?” she asked, lifting her ring finger slightly. The numbness began to turn back into a dull ache the moment it touched the cold can of Coke.

“I don’t know. Let’s go see,” Jiang Menghe replied. The Coke had been warmed by their body heat, so she set it on the table. “I’ll drive you.”

“Don’t you have to go back to Pingcheng to film tomorrow?” Yin Yunzhu asked.

The woman shot her a glance and stood up to put on her coat. “You certainly know my schedule inside out.”

The camel-colored cashmere coat had been warmed by the indoor heating, and the lingering scent of gardenia drifted through the air, softening Jiang Menghe’s slightly cold tone.

“Sister Ye told me earlier,” Yin Yunzhu explained. Unlike those obsessive fans who stalked celebrities, she didn’t go out of her way to find out undisclosed schedules.

The drive to the hospital was short. There weren’t many people seeking medical attention in the early morning, and it wasn’t long before her number was called in the waiting hall.

Given her status, it wasn’t convenient for Jiang Menghe to appear frequently in public places. She sat in the car with the window half-rolled down, the light from her phone reflecting on her face. Seeing Yin Yunzhu approach with a small box of medicine, she unlocked the car doors.

The cold air was biting, especially in the dead of night, freezing one’s legs stiff. Yin Yunzhu slipped into the passenger seat and poured out the medicine, carefully spraying it onto her injured ring finger according to the instructions.

Jiang Menghe, who was replying to messages, looked over. She always seemed to give off a hot-and-cold vibe. Setting aside the passionate joy in bed, the two of them simply went about their own business afterward, a picture of quiet harmony.

Yin Yunzhu didn’t feel it was quiet; the cold medicine seeped into the cracks of her skin, soothing the searing pain.

The streetlights shone through the windshield, framing a small patch of light in front of them. The back of Jiang Menghe’s hand appeared even paler as she grasped Yin Yunzhu’s wrist, studying it carefully.

“Does it still hurt?”

“How could it heal so quickly?” Yin Yunzhu let out a helpless laugh. “By the time you get back to Quancheng, this hand will be completely fine.”

The implication was clear: it wouldn’t interfere with their harmony.

Since they arrived at the hospital, Jiang Menghe had been somewhat distracted, checking her phone frequently. Now, she placed her phone face down on the armrest and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Yin Yunzhu’s ear.

“Are you that spiteful?” She leaned in, her eyes dim in the backlight. “Are you going to remember that sentence from the TV station until now?”

“I don’t know,” Yin Yunzhu mimicked the phrase, her profile turning to meet the woman’s gaze.

The girl in the passenger seat was very well-behaved. Her face lacked sharp angles, and her baby fat formed intoxicating dimples when she smiled. Right now, she was staring intently at Jiang with her round eyes.

Jiang Menghe found it hard to endure such a look. It was as if the other person had buried her face in Jiang’s hair to catch her scent, only to lift wet eyelashes and harmlessly rub against her. It was so clear that one could see her sincere heart, making Jiang feel condemned as an ungrateful, heartless woman who only cared about pleasure.

Their eyes met as a dark tide surged between them. The woman held her breath, her cool hand covering Yin Yunzhu’s eyes. Her voice was husky. “Don’t look.”

Her vision went dark. Yin Yunzhu felt the shadow looming in front of her, and in the next moment, the other woman leaned over.

Warm, soft lips pressed together. It was completely different from the previous aggressive dominance; it felt more like endearments whispered during a tender moment. Jiang Menghe’s tongue tangled with hers, slowly pressing against the roof of her mouth with a light stroke.

It was a very flirtatious movement.

Yin Yunzhu couldn’t handle the itch and hummed with a wavering voice. She gradually reciprocated, sucking on the nimble tongue, making a muffled, wet sound.

Jiang Menghe withdrew her palm, her eyes half-open as she watched Yin Yunzhu lose herself. The dark depths of her eyes seemed to swallow all light. Rather than enjoyment, it felt more like she was soothing Yin Yunzhu’s wandering thoughts.

Currently, she had no heart for such things. Perhaps sensing Jiang Menghe’s lack of focus, Yin Yunzhu turned her face away, a transparent thread of saliva stretching from the corner of her mouth.

“Kiss me,” she adjusted her position to be closer. “Kiss me again.”

Her sticky voice sounded like someone who had just learned to speak. Jiang Menghe felt a surge of warmth and simply clasped her hand, her fingertips scratching her palm.

The two of them kissed in the car for nearly two hours until Jiang Menghe leaned on Yin Yunzhu’s shoulder and gave her a satisfied bite.

“Be a little more restrained,” she said, her breath uneven.

“You were the one who kissed me first.” Yin Yunzhu closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around the other’s neck.

She liked these tender, desireless kisses. It made it feel as though they were the perfect pair, like dodder plants parasitic on one another, drawing nourishment.

With the windows tightly shut and the lingering heat of the cramped space not yet dissipated, she summoned her courage to ask, “Do you really not know?”

“Do you want to hear the truth or a lie?” the woman asked, her eyelids drooping lazily.

Yin Yunzhu had heard heart-piercing truths before and knew the reality of their hidden relationship. Bitterness spread through her heart. Even though she understood, she still deceived herself, hoping for sweet words to gloss over the painful facts.

“The lie,” she sniffled.

Jiang Menghe let out a light laugh. She turned on the overhead light, its warm yellow glow softening her features.

“The lie is that I don’t find it distasteful.”

“If you’re going to coax someone, you should take out the first two words,” Yin Yunzhu reminded her. She desperately needed some spiritual food to nourish her withered emotional state.

Jiang Menghe was almost always ready to grant her requests. She reorganized her words: “Yin Yunzhu, no matter what happens to you, I will not find it distasteful.”

“I will haunt you forever,” she paused. “I won’t let you go even as a ghost.”

“I’d love to eat your flesh, crawl on your body, and drain your blood. I won’t let you escape my grasp in this lifetime.”

“Wait a minute,” Yin Yunzhu interrupted her lines. “This is too fake. You sound like a pervert.”

“Then just consider me a pervert.” Jiang Menghe’s low mood improved after the interruption.

She took Yin Yunzhu’s uninjured left hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss, her behavior carrying a hint of appeasement.

“That was my script,” Jiang Menghe explained, truly afraid that Yin Yunzhu would take her previous words seriously.

Dramatic scenes of forced love were common in TV shows. Hearing this, Yin Yunzhu’s curiosity was piqued. “Do you usually take roles like that when you’re acting?”

Realizing the reference was unclear, she added, “The kind you just said.” After all, Jiang Menghe’s image was more suited for roles as a gentle, noble lady.

“I played them when I first debuted. The company gave me a bunch of messy scripts.”

“At that time, I didn’t have a clear concept of career planning. As long as the money was right, I didn’t care if it was a bad movie or a web drama.”

Yin Yunzhu rarely asked about her past. Now, she realized that she was no different from those fans who only saw the glamorous exterior of the person in front of them. Many people were jealous of Jiang Menghe and envious of her good fortune, having steadily risen to become the youngest Best Actress today, even despite the discrimination she faced because of her second gender.

“I see,” Yin Yunzhu nodded. She had thought that with Jiang Menghe’s status and innate pride, she would disdain taking on trashy, melodramatic roles.

However, this gave rise to more questions. She toyed with Jiang Menghe’s fingers, the plain silver ring on her index finger gleaming with a sharp luster.

“Then, have you ever developed feelings for another actor because of a role?” She kept her tone light, but her heart was racing with tension.

“Are you jealous?” Jiang Menghe could always see through her inner thoughts, and the corners of her lips curved into a pleasant arc.

“No,” Yin Yunzhu tried her best to hide it, telling a poor lie. “I’m just gathering material for my next book. Is that not allowed?”

“It’s allowed,” Jiang Menghe said helplessly. “But no.”

They were all colleagues working on the same set. The situation Yin Yunzhu described was as ridiculous as a designer falling in love with a client. Moreover, at that time, she was just an unknown minor actress.

Due to regulations and boundaries, intimate scenes below the neck were cut clean. As a Beta without a gland, producers tended to prefer Alpha-Omega pairings during casting. It truly wasn’t easy for her to persevere and win Best Actress. No wonder there was so much marketing and praise.

“Really?” Yin Yunzhu was skeptical. She seemed to have masochistic tendencies, insisting on hearing an answer that dissatisfied her before she would stop, yet she would secretly feel sad about it.

In such a relationship, she was pushing her luck. And Jiang Menghe’s constant yielding made Yin Yunzhu seem less willful.

As the woman gazed deeply at her, she pinched Yin Yunzhu’s cheek. “When have I ever lied to you?”

Those words finally put Yin Yunzhu’s heart at ease.

In the dead of night, a ray of light shone from the bedside. Yin Yunzhu’s sleeping face was pressed into the pillow, her cheek squeezed out of shape, adding a bit of fleshiness to her appearance.

Jiang Menghe exited her flight booking page, and a message popped up at the top.

Sangen Xueleng (Cold Snow at Midnight): It has nothing to do with me. There should be a limit to forced associations.

Jiang Shiyun wasn’t considered a top-tier star in the entertainment industry, but she could barely squeeze into the first or second tier. Whether dealing with seniors or newcomers, her attitude was always cold and arrogant. Yet, her doting fans had marketed her as a “cool and elegant jade woman.”

Jiang Menghe sneered as she scrolled through their chat history. Having learned the origin of Yin Yunzhu’s injured finger, even if she couldn’t directly force the other woman out of the industry, she could still make things unpleasant for her.

Juhe (Orange Harmony): After all, she was hurt because of your fans. It’s not too much to ask for a face-to-face apology, is it?

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