Shadowed Love: A Lover Who Refuses to Let Go - Chapter 41

Yin Yunzhu woke up in a hotel guest room. She had left Riyue Mingyuan the night before in a complete daze and couldn’t remember much of what happened afterward. Perhaps because it was so late, and she was unable to cope with the tidal wave of emotions, she hadn’t chosen to go home.

The curtains weren’t drawn. Sunlight, accompanied by golden clouds in the east, rose through the gaps between the high-rise buildings. Yin Yunzhu covered her throbbing temples; she had cried so hard that her head felt heavy and she could barely open her eyes.

Yesterday she had joked about Yin Xuan crying, but today she was the one suffering.

Jiang Menghe…

The familiar name surfaced in her mind. She reached for her phone on the nightstand. Aside from various app notifications, the contact list was empty. Emotions always feel more intense at night, and people say hurtful things without realizing it. Yin Yunzhu was usually someone with a “needle hidden in silk”—unless you knew her deeply, you’d think she was just easygoing.

She had gone there to show concern only to be cursed at, and in her desperation, she had said some ugly things; she regretted it deeply now. She clicked into the chat box with Jiang Menghe; the history was still stuck on their previous long-distance greetings.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

She typed and deleted many words, finally settling on a simple “I’m sorry” and hitting send.

The red exclamation mark was eye-catching and sharp. The system prompt that they were no longer friends seared into her vision. Yin Yunzhu exhaled and threw her phone aside in self-abandonment.

So, it wasn’t a dream.

She pulled the corner of the quilt up, wrapping herself completely inside, curling up in a protective, insecure posture. As she did, tears soaked the sheets once again.

Yin Yunzhu was woken up by a sudden phone ring. Fumbling around to no avail, she finally sat up to find her phone. It was Madam Shan calling. She wiped away her tears and snot, rubbing her face to make herself look less miserable before clicking accept.

“Why did it take you so long to answer?”

It was noon, and Shan Songyue was picking up Yin Xuan after work. The sounds of a child shouting and a range hood running came through the phone.

“Ah, oh,” Yin Yunzhu’s voice was thick with a nasal tone, so she deliberately pretended she had just woken up. “The publishing house called me last night, saying there was an issue with the last package I sent. They wanted me to come take a look.”

“What kind of publishing house makes people work in the middle of the night?” Shan Songyue grumbled, not forgetting to nag her while complaining. “And you just slept until now?”

“I was tired,” Yin Yunzhu lay back down and turned on the speakerphone.

“Look how lazy you’ve become, no ambition at all…” The other side launched into a never-ending lecture mode, jumping from “other people’s children” to work, criticizing her whenever there was a gap.

Already heartbroken over Jiang Menghe, being told she was worthless made Yin Yunzhu’s nose prickle. Tears threatened to fall again.

“Mom, can you please stop? I feel really bad.” She tilted her head back to adjust her breathing, feeling an uncontrollable ache in her heart.

Sensing something was wrong, Shan Songyue actually stopped talking and just focused on the stir-fry in her pan. “Have you eaten? Come back and eat with us.”

“No, I won’t make it,” Yin Yunzhu refused, then asked about her sister. “How is Xiao Xuan? Is she still crying?”

“Xiao Xuan, Xiao Xuan, you’re always thinking about your precious sister and never about your old mother’s life or death.” Madam Shan rolled her eyes, leaning out of the kitchen to look into the living room. Children’s emotions come and go quickly; all her troubles had been tossed aside overnight, and she was currently dancing while watching cartoons. “Don’t worry, she’s livelier than you.”

Yin Yunzhu felt relieved. Lately, unfortunate events had been piling up, nearly crushing her. Fortunately, her family provided a bit of warmth, letting her forget her troubles momentarily.

The past was the past; it was a settled matter, and no amount of effort could bring it back. She understood someone like Jiang Menghe: she appeared gentle and soft-hearted, but she was most lethal when she hardened her heart.

After hanging up, she got up to wash, checked out of the hotel, and returned to her apartment.

Everything at home was the same. Xiaoyu was lying on the scratching post in the hallway soaking up the sun. Hearing the owner return, the cat ran over, rubbing its fat head against Yin Yunzhu’s palm.

“At least you don’t find me distasteful,” Yin Yunzhu pulled it into her arms. The golden fur looked rich under the light, warming her heart.

“Meow—!” Xiaoyu couldn’t stand the restraint and leaped down from her arms.

Even the cat found her annoying.

Yin Yunzhu felt helpless. She changed her clothes and went into the kitchen, intending to throw some food together. The new counter was wiped clean, reflecting the sky from the narrow window. The fridge was mostly filled with drinks and snacks; actual ingredients were scarce.

In terms of cooking, Yin Yunzhu had inherited her mother’s “just edible” standard. She took a semi-finished fish fillet from the freezer and put it in the pan to fry. The sizzling oil bubbled, a sharp sound like dense raindrops. She frowned and flipped the fish, faintly hearing someone knock.

She coughed violently and shouted, “Coming!”

Perhaps the sound of the hood drowned her out, because the person kept knocking persistently. When she turned off the stove and ran to the door, she found Bai Jiali.

The woman was chewing gum, her black hoodie unzipped to reveal a thin, colorful sweater. She was looking at the New Year couplets on the door, poised to knock a fifth time. When the door opened, she jumped, stunned for a long moment.

As their eyes met, Yin Yunzhu instinctively avoided her gaze, stepping aside to make room. “Come in.”

Bai Jiali took a sharp breath, leaning in to inspect Yin’s eyes, which were swollen like peach pits. She hesitated. “Uh, this…” She pointed at Yin’s eyes, choosing her words carefully. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Are you coming in or not?” Yin Yunzhu snapped, her embarrassment turning into anger. Seeing her friend point out her most humiliating wound, she stomped her foot and made a move to close the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Bai Jiali grinned, slipping inside to change her shoes.

The window wasn’t shut tightly, and the light-colored curtains swayed in the breeze. A thin-necked vase on the dining table held a fresh white bouquet, the cozy atmosphere mingled with the rich scent of meat.

“What are you making? It smells so good!” Bai Jiali walked into the kitchen and saw the golden fish fillets on the stove.

“Why are you here?” Yin Yunzhu took out plates and divided the fish.

Bai Jiali grabbed a lemon water from the fridge. “Auntie Shan told me to check on you.”

Yin Yunzhu lowered her eyes and said nothing, carrying the plates to the table. After that phone call, Shan Songyue must have realized something was wrong, but as a parent, it was awkward to probe, so she sent Bai Jiali instead. She was always the first to notice her daughter’s sensitive emotions.

Unfortunately, Yin Yunzhu felt she was failing, wallowing in the pain of a breakup—a relationship that wasn’t even a real one, but rather her own one-sided wishful thinking. Whenever she steadied her mind, she would think of the woman’s face, the way her lips lingered at the corners of Yin’s mouth, the comfort of her palm afterward.

While she was dazed, Bai Jiali had already sat down to eat. Xiaoyu, smelling the food, gave up on its freeze-dried treats and rushed over.

“What’s going on? Why have you been crying like this?”

“I haven’t,” Yin Yunzhu looked down, appearing so aggrieved she looked ready to cry again.

Her arm was patted. Bai Jiali looked frustrated and put down her fork. “What’s wrong with you? You won’t tell me? Are we best friends or not?”

“It’s really nothing. Just work troubles. I got scolded by readers,” Yin Yunzhu sat down, burying her head to signal her refusal to communicate.

“I don’t believe you,” Bai Jiali stared at her. “You’ve been in this business for years; your heart is tempered enough. You’re afraid of what those people say?”

Yin Yunzhu didn’t want to respond, focusing on cutting the soft fish with her fork. From the side, her swollen eyes looked a bit comical, yet piteous.

Xiaoyu propped itself against Bai Jiali’s leg, peeking at the fish and batting at her with its paws. The table was silent for a while, save for the occasional clink of cutlery.

Seeing her eat in silence, Bai Jiali lost interest in the food, moving her chair closer. “Don’t tell me… you’re heartbroken?”

Heartbroken? Did she and Jiang Menghe even count? Last night she had heard with her own ears that the other had never liked her—it was all her own delusion. All those beautiful memories were now like shards of sharp glass, piercing her heart with a dense, stabbing pain. The emotional imbalance made the scales naturally tip toward the heartless side, leaving Yin Yunzhu standing in place.

She was dazed for a moment, and suddenly the food tasted like wax. This reaction confirmed Bai Jiali’s suspicion. She had thought she was being imaginative, but now an irrational anger flared up.

“Which bastard man is it? I’ll go tear him apart!” She slapped the table, her voice rising. Xiaoyu was so startled it dived under the table, its round eyes peeking at them.

“It has nothing to do with… them. I was the one who pushed too far.” Being comforted made Yin Yunzhu feel even more aggrieved; the bitterness in her heart bubbled up to her throat.

Actually, she should have known long ago. They were meant to please each other beyond spiritual exchange; they weren’t supposed to have messy emotions. It was Jiang Menghe’s constant yielding that gave her the feeling she had a chance to get closer.

“You’re still defending him at a time like this!” Bai Jiali leaned her head on her hand, momentarily speechless. “If I remember correctly, you haven’t dated before, right? This is the first time.”

“You messed up your first relationship this badly? If you don’t fix it, there will be trauma in the future, you know?” Bai Jiali pointed at her chest, nearly laughing out of frustration.

“Can you please stop…” Yin Yunzhu’s eyes felt hot. Tears slid down her cheeks to her chin, and she wiped them away messily with a tissue.

“Fine, I won’t care about you anymore,” Bai Jiali said calmly, sitting back in her chair. Having known each other since childhood, this was said out of a bit of spite. The atmosphere grew heavy, and the steaming food gradually turned cold.

Yin Yunzhu glanced at Bai Jiali and saw her friend with her back turned, scrolling through her phone. She regretted her harsh words; her feelings about Jiang Menghe shouldn’t be taken out on an innocent person. So, she grabbed the corner of Bai Jiali’s hoodie and gave it a small tug.

Her hand was brushed away, but she persisted, pulling a bit harder.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to care?” Bai Jiali said irritably. “Why are you bothering me now?”

“I was wrong,” Yin Yunzhu apologized softly, her heavy nasal tone adding to the piteous effect.

She naturally looked younger than she was, and when she smiled, her fleshy cheeks revealed two shallow dimples that were incredibly sweet. Seeing this, Bai Jiali’s frustration vanished like a deflated balloon; she was completely defeated.

Bai Jiali sat up straight, which made Yin Yunzhu feel a bit flustered under her scrutiny. They had grown up together and knew each other too well; even their social circles overlapped significantly. In truth, when she first met Jiang Menghe, she should have told Bai Jiali. But her lifelong “good girl” persona made it hard to let go of her image; once such an outrageous thing was discovered, she might face condemnation from all sides.

Yin Yunzhu wasn’t brave enough to withstand the judgment and gossip, and she was even more afraid of her old friend turning against her. Even in her imagination, she couldn’t accept it.

“I…” she stammered. “It’s not a man.”

The nonsensical words were confusing, but connecting it to the context, Bai Jiali understood. She quietly processed the sentence. “Not a man? You mean, a woman?”

As soon as the words came out, she felt stupid. What else could it be?

Yin Yunzhu said nothing, picking up her fork again to eat in small, quiet bites. This silence was taken as a confession. Bai Jiali was struck by a wave of shock, desperate for a definitive answer.

“The person you’ve been seeing… is a woman?”

“Yes,” Yin Yunzhu closed her eyes, finally coming clean. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid you’d find it distasteful—”

“You’ve lost your mind!” Before she could finish, Bai Jiali looked at her with pained regret. “How could you get involved with them?”

More than being judgmental, she was worried her best friend was being conned. The “Upper Class” Alphas and Omegas, with their superior bloodlines, had always looked down on Betas who lacked glands and couldn’t reproduce internally. No matter how advanced technology became, power remained in the hands of the Alphas and Omegas. Betas were seen as no different from ordinary humans lower-class beings who could only rely on standard physical acts.

Social welfare and legal protections always prioritized them first. So, when Yin Yunzhu admitted to loving a woman of that status, Bai Jiali’s first instinct was that she was being played. The upper class viewed people like them as playthings; they could never be sincere. It was nothing more than a relationship between a patron and a canary, where the former could discard the latter like trash at any moment.

Yin Yunzhu wasn’t exactly a woman of unyielding pride, but at the very least, as someone who was financially stable, she wouldn’t be lured by wealth. The only possibility was that she had fallen for someone’s sweet talk.

“You know their tactics. Once they’re bored, they kick you to the curb. They don’t care if you cry or try to fix it. They even like injecting all sorts of messy drugs…”

Hearing Bai Jiali’s tone, Yin Yunzhu knew her friend had misunderstood the dynamic. She quickly clarified, “I’m not that stupid.”

“She’s like me. She’s a Beta.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she closed her eyes in resignation, even shifting her body slightly away.

“What?”

“She’s also a Beta.”

Practice makes perfect; the words no longer felt like they were burning her mouth. Bai Jiali’s reaction was unexpectedly calm, which allowed some of Yin’s gnawing anxiety to fade. To receive understanding from someone close to her even if it was just one person was a massive source of encouragement.

“Excuse me?” Bai Jiali frowned, her hands spread wide. “Two Betas? How does that even work?”

Realizing she was being too blunt, she cleared her throat and reorganized her thoughts. “How is that different from biological incompatibility?”

“Horses and donkeys can produce mules,” Yin Yunzhu muttered stubbornly.

“Are you a horse and she’s a mule?” Bai Jiali found it incredible. “Have you thought about what happens if you’re found out? People will mock you and look down on you. They’ll say you didn’t have the ‘ability’ to differentiate, so you’re just mimicking them and acting out!”

Her tone grew harsher, as if she were looking at a wayward girl who had lost her way.

“But I like her! What am I supposed to do?” Yin Yunzhu snapped back, tears falling like broken pearls. Her voice trembled with a sob. “What am I supposed to do? I didn’t want this either!”

“If there was a better path to take, why would I choose to let myself suffer?” She stood up. “I’ve turned myself into this mess—do I deserve it?”

The grievances from her argument with Jiang Menghe the night before came rushing back, combined with her friend’s accusations. Yin Yunzhu felt like a lonely boat drifting at sea, swaying helplessly in the storm, without even a lighthouse to guide her. She was too lost. Every step forward felt like a tentative probe, and her courage had only led to this result.

Who wouldn’t want their wishes to come true?

Her soft-spoken accusation was like a cry for help. Her questions left Bai Jiali stunned, cooling her heated head.

“I’m sorry. I went too far. Just calm down.” Bai Jiali stood up and gripped Yin’s shoulders, pulling her into a warm embrace while using a tissue to wipe her tears.

“You all find me distasteful.”

Yin Yunzhu began to sob again, unable to stop even though she knew it was pathetic. Fortunately, Jiang Menghe hadn’t seen her in this miserable state, or she would have used even sharper, more sarcastic words to attack her. Jiang, who used to be the most gentle and considerate, had stripped away her disguise to reveal a heartless reality, leaving not even a shred of fantasy for Yin to hold onto after their separation.

“Who finds you distasteful?” Bai Jiali asked defensively. “Not me. I support whatever you do. I was just… expressing my surprise.”

“Tell me. Who is she?”

Truthfully, Bai Jiali was so stunned she was speaking without thinking. Yin’s revelations were hitting her in waves, far more dramatic than any entertainment gossip she had heard over the years.

“Jiang Menghe.”

“Which Jiang Menghe?”

“That one,” Yin Yunzhu replied vaguely, still hesitant to be fully open. However, given Bai Jiali’s sharp intuition, she would find out sooner or later. It was better to tell her directly. “The actress.”

“The lead from The Way Home. We even went to see her movie together,” she added helpfully.

“You—” Bai Jiali’s eyes widened, suddenly finding the world quite absurd. “You!”

If it weren’t for Yin Yunzhu’s tear-streaked face, she would have thought her friend was making up a dramatic plot for a new book.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” Yin Yunzhu lowered her head and apologized, making it impossible for Bai Jiali to even stay angry.

The two faced each other, the atmosphere heavy and still. Xiaoyu lay on the sofa in the living room, kicking at a catnip ball like an agitated rabbit.

“I can’t help you with this one,” Bai Jiali broke the silence first, as if stating that Yin Yunzhu was beyond saving and she had to give up on her.

“I’m sorry…” Yin Yunzhu could only apologize.

Her shoulder was patted heavily. Bai Jiali stood up and stacked the used dishes.

“I mean, I can’t tear Jiang Menghe apart for you. I’d be lucky if her fans didn’t tear me apart first,” the woman said as she carried the dishes toward the kitchen. “They could drown me with their spit alone.”

“Nothing to be done. Since I watched you grow up, let me stay with you until you get over this heartbreak.” Her tone was grandfatherly, which was inexplicably annoying.

“Jiali…” Yin Yunzhu leaned against the doorframe, standing silently. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Bai Jiali’s voice mixed with the sound of running water. “Just don’t start having any ‘feelings’ for me.”

The words of gratitude were swallowed back, replaced by embarrassment and irritation.

“Not a chance!” Yin Yunzhu’s skin was thin; a few teasing words were enough to make her cheeks flush a deep crimson.

How could anyone have such a misunderstanding of their own charm? These were two completely different things. A relationship that was too familiar lost its sense of mystery, leaving no desire for exploration.

Bai Jiali burst into laughter. A dish slipped from her soapy hands, clattering loudly as it hit the sink.

Knowing she would be staying at the apartment for a few days, Yin Yunzhu tidied up the guest room, putting on fresh, unused sheets.

Night arrived, draping Quancheng in a sorrowful twilight. Traffic was dense on the crisscrossing overpasses, moving slowly like ants.

Yin Yunzhu holed herself up in the study. She had recently started a new story and was putting the latest chapters into her drafts, setting them to auto-publish. After that, she had to convert the book into a script for the film adaptation. There was no news from He Ping’s studio, so she had to grit her teeth and follow the notes in the booklet.

The sound of Bai Jiali playing games came from the living room, her shouts clearly audible through the wooden door.

“Oh no, I’m going to be blinded!” “How did I get hit by that stun? Is that even human?” “What are you doing? And you said you’d carry me!”

She was likely playing with some flirtatious interest again. Yin Yunzhu sighed and got up to pour a glass of water.

The living room was dim, with only the outlines of the furniture visible. The flickering neon lights from outside filtered in. She turned on the light, making the person on the sofa squint in discomfort.

“How do you not feel uncomfortable in the dark?” Yin Yunzhu walked to the water dispenser and poured the lemon tea she had brewed.

“It’s a game. It’s for venting,” Bai Jiali sat up, clutching a soft pillow as she started another round. “Want to join? It’s fun.”

“No thanks. I’m afraid of competitive games; I’d just be a burden to the team,” Yin Yunzhu declined. “Keep it down, I’m working.”

“Fine, fine. I took leave specifically to come and stay with you, you little ingrate,” Bai Jiali pouted, her eyes never leaving the screen. “By the way, what are we eating tonight?”

Yin Yunzhu thought about the ingredients in the fridge. “There’s some bow-tie pasta. Want some?”

“Forget it. That’s what Yin Xuan likes. I finally come over, and you won’t even give me a real meal?”

“How about this: the Muse bar we went to before has some new drinks. Want to go check it out with me?” At the mention of nightlife, Bai Jiali grew excited, setting her phone aside once the match ended.

Muse bar. That was where she and Jiang Menghe first met.

A place with such strong fragments of memory was already labeled in Yin Yunzhu’s mind, branded into her heart so she could never escape it. Whenever they passed a place they had been together, it was hard not to feel sentimental. Because of this, the places she could go were becoming fewer, as if Jiang Menghe was encroaching on her original territory.

“No. The friends you brought last time were a mess. I didn’t like them,” Yin Yunzhu replied.

At this, Bai Jiali leaped up from the sofa, making a dramatic gesture of a solemn vow. “Those were brought by my colleague. I didn’t like them either. I promise this time it’ll just be the two of us—”

Seeing Yin Yunzhu’s unmoved expression, she tried everything. “Good Yunyun, just come with me, please? You’re going through a failed relationship; you need to drown your sorrows in drink, right?”

Bai Jiali was always like this—if things didn’t go her way, she would persistently wear you down until you changed your mind. Yin Yunzhu could never resist her.

“If you don’t go and just stay cooped up at home, it proves you haven’t let go,” she argued.

“I haven’t.”

“If you haven’t, then come to the bar with me.”

Faced with this moral blackmail, Yin Yunzhu let out a sigh and set her glass on the table. This was a gesture of surrender.

Returning to the place where they first met to wash away the old memories though it would be painful, the pain would surely fade with time.

She thought she should adapt to life without Jiang Menghe.

Support