The Cannon Fodder Crazy Beauty Has Awakened [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 61.2

Jiang Mengyu immediately understood what she meant.

The way this person looked at her now seemed to carry a little more warmth than before, yet her attitude remained as aloof as ever.

Gu Lanqiu had clearly been moved too, yet she was turning the tables, demanding Jiang Mengyu take the initiative to pursue her.

She was like an experienced hunter, standing outside the trap, silently and calmly watching as her prey drew closer.

Jiang Mengyu closed her eyes, nuzzling Gu Lanqiu’s hand in surrender and obedience. “Okay.”

Gu Lanqiu didn’t pull her hand back. Instead, she changed the subject. “Does the wound still hurt?”

Jiang Mengyu shook her head. “No.”

Gu Lanqiu studied her slightly pale face. “Stop painting for now. Go rest.”

She was actually showing concern for someone.

Jiang Mengyu obediently stood up. “Aren’t you going to the company today?”

“No.” Gu Lanqiu turned to leave. “But I have a business dinner tonight.”

Jiang Mengyu quickly followed her. Just before Gu Lanqiu stepped out of the studio, Jiang Mengyu reached out and circled her wrist.

Gu Lanqiu turned to look at her. “What?”

Before she could finish, her lips were sealed.

The kiss was light, fleeting.

Jiang Mengyu released Gu Lanqiu’s hand and instead wrapped her arms around her waist, her bright black eyes fixed unwaveringly on her. “I’m so happy.”

“Lanqiu.”

She had seemed so composed earlier, her heart silent, that Gu Lanqiu had thought she felt nothing.

Gu Lanqiu glanced down at Jiang Mengyu’s lips, her tone indifferent. “Just this much?”

Jiang Mengyu blinked. “Sister.”

Gu Lanqiu had expected her to kiss her again, but she hadn’t anticipated her suddenly calling her “sister.”

Yet, there was no denying it, hearing those two words from Jiang Mengyu’s lips again made Gu Lanqiu’s heart race uncontrollably.

“Mm.” Gu Lanqiu rubbed her fingertips together. Without restraining her thoughts, she actively reached out to hook her arm around Jiang Mengyu’s neck, pressing her lips forward.

The curtains fluttered lightly in the breeze, and the room, once filled with the scent of paint, now carried a faint, warm fragrance.

By the time the two tidied up and went downstairs, the color of their lips had deepened noticeably.

Aunt Zhang observed all of this but didn’t think much of it, she simply found it coincidental that both Ms. Gu and Ms. Jiang were wearing high-collared clothes today.

After the meal, the two returned to the bedroom.

Gu Lanqiu replied to messages on her phone, while Jiang Mengyu picked up the book she hadn’t finished reading.

Since leaving last night, Gu Lanqiu hadn’t responded to Wen Lingyi’s messages. Wen Lingyi had probably guessed she was busy and only sent a message this morning asking how she was doing.

Gu Lanqiu lowered her head to type: [I’m fine.]

Wen Lingyi’s call popped up immediately. Gu Lanqiu didn’t answer right away, instead glancing at Jiang Mengyu beside her.

Jiang Mengyu paused in turning the page. “Do you need me to step away?”

Gu Lanqiu: “No need.”

She answered the call, and in the next second, Wen Lingyi’s face appeared on the screen.

“Lanqiu.” Wen Lingyi studied Gu Lanqiu’s appearance, her gaze lingering on the neck hidden beneath the collar. “You’re still at home?”

“Mm.” Gu Lanqiu didn’t point the camera at Jiang Mengyu, but Wen Lingyi had already guessed someone was beside her.

“Is Mengyu doing alright?”

The way Jiang Mengyu had turned and left last night had genuinely startled Wen Lingyi, she had been afraid the two might have argued.

“She’s fine.”

As Gu Lanqiu spoke, her gaze drifted back to the person beside her. Wen Lingyi, watching her expression, suddenly felt something was off.

“Did you catch a cold?”

Why did her voice sound so much hoarser than usual?

“…No.”

Wen Lingyi’s suspicious eyes lingered on Gu Lanqiu’s face. Sharp-eyed, she suddenly noticed a faint red mark near Gu Lanqiu’s chin.

Though Gu Lanqiu quickly turned her head, Wen Lingyi had already seen it clearly.

“You… you two!” Wen Lingyi’s eyes widened.

No way?

It couldn’t be what she was thinking, could it?

Gu Lanqiu shot her a glance not exactly a warning, but enough to make Wen Lingyi shut her mouth.

Alright, alright. So it really was like that.

Wen Lingyi’s heart itched with curiosity. How had these two progressed so fast?

Hadn’t Gu Lanqiu just said a couple of days ago that she wasn’t interested?

So she really had just been stubborn.

“Then, you!” Wen Lingyi wanted to ask Gu Lanqiu what her plans were now.

But considering Jiang Mengyu was sitting right there, she swallowed the question.

“Let’s meet up in a couple of days.” Wen Lingyi winked at Gu Lanqiu.

Gu Lanqiu: “…”

She hung up the call and glanced sideways, Jiang Mengyu was slowly turning the page of her book.

Gu Lanqiu’s gaze swept over the book. She couldn’t see why it was worth reading just a bunch of children’s stories.

Why did Jiang Mengyu like it so much?

Did it have something to do with her past self?

At that thought, Gu Lanqiu reached out and pressed down on the page. “Stop reading.”

Jiang Mengyu lifted her eyes to meet hers. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sleepy.” Gu Lanqiu’s voice was light, yet carried an undeniable insistence. “Stay with me for a while.”

Jiang Mengyu moved her book aside and gestured for her to lie on her lap. “Go ahead and sleep.”

Just as Gu Lanqiu frowned, about to refuse, Jiang Mengyu gently traced her palm. “I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay?”

“Jiejie?”

She always knew how to make Gu Lanqiu happy.

Gu Lanqiu lowered her eyes without a word but settled down, resting her head on Jiang Mengyu’s lap.

The sunlight streaming through the window warmed them, and as the familiar scent of jasmine enveloped her, Gu Lanqiu gradually relaxed.

Above her, Jiang Mengyu’s soft, husky voice narrated a tale of a mushroom and a jellyfish.

“The little mushroom had no friends.”

“She was very lonely.”

“All she could do was cry while staring at her reflection in the water.”

“Then a little jellyfish surfaced and came to her side.”

“With the jellyfish’s help, the little mushroom slowly made many friends.”

“The jellyfish told her, ‘In this world, there are many people who care about you.'”

“The little mushroom looked at the jellyfish and whispered softly,”

“‘But only you glow.'”

How childish, Gu Lanqiu thought. Was anything in this world truly one-of-a-kind?

Even the most special existence could one day become as insignificant as a mosquito’s bloodstain. No one was irreplaceable.

Just like the person in Jiang Mengyu’s heart.

She would take that person’s place, ensuring Jiang Mengyu’s heart held only her seeing only her, thinking only of her.

Lost in her thoughts, Gu Lanqiu suddenly realized the voice above her had stopped. She opened her eyes to find Jiang Mengyu had set the book aside at some point and was now gazing at her quietly, her expression unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” Gu Lanqiu asked, puzzled.

She couldn’t have spoken her thoughts aloud, could she?

“Sleep,” Jiang Mengyu murmured, covering Gu Lanqiu’s eyes with her hand. “Jiejie.”

That single word, “Jiejie” was uttered so softly, with a tone unlike any before. Before Gu Lanqiu could decipher it, the soothing scent of jasmine lulled her into deep slumber.

Jiang Mengyu gently traced Gu Lanqiu’s brows, the tenderness in her eyes fading into calm indifference.

Gu Lanqiu slept soundly, completely defenseless beside Jiang Mengyu, unaware that the person watching her was thinking of someone else entirely.

When she awoke two hours later, she felt refreshed.

Jiang Mengyu, however, had lost all feeling in her legs.

Seeing her discreetly massaging her thighs, Gu Lanqiu reached out and stopped her. “Let me.”

Unaccustomed to such attentiveness, her efforts only made Jiang Mengyu’s discomfort worse.

“That’s enough,” Jiang Mengyu said, stopping her. “What time will your dinner meeting end tonight?”

“Not sure,” Gu Lanqiu replied, pulling her hand back. “Why?”

Jiang Mengyu caught her wrist, her fingers trailing lightly up Gu Lanqiu’s arm before encircling it.

“I just want to know.”

Gu Lanqiu paused. She remembered Jiang Mengyu had always been unusually concerned about this, enough that they’d argued over it several times before.

Before Gu Lanqiu could speak again, Jiang Mengyu softly asked, “Can’t you tell me?”

Gu Lanqiu’s voice was equally quiet. “I don’t think I owe my bed partner that much of an explanation.”

“Not a bed partner.” Jiang Mengyu’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening unconsciously.

She clearly took issue with Gu Lanqiu using those words to define their relationship.

But she forced herself not to lose her temper.

“Lanqiu, you were the one who told me to try harder.”

Jiang Mengyu spoke each word deliberately, “I’m pursuing you.”

In this emotional tug-of-war, Gu Lanqiu had temporarily gained the upper hand.

Gu Lanqiu let out a quiet sigh of relief, the corners of her lips lifting slightly. “Fine.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Jiang Mengyu’s lips before saying, “It starts at eight, should be over by around ten.”

To soothe the wounded puppy, Gu Lanqiu took the initiative again:

“Do you want to come pick me up?”

A slap followed by a sweet, this was a tactic Gu Lanqiu often employed.

“Yes,” Jiang Mengyu answered immediately.

She tilted her head up, chasing after Gu Lanqiu, and before the other woman could straighten up, she returned the kiss.

Gu Lanqiu’s heart trembled faintly, but her expression remained composed. “Mm.”

“Then, in the future, can I pick you up after work?” Jiang Mengyu pressed her advantage.

She stared intently at Gu Lanqiu, her gaze never leaving her face.

The two locked eyes for a moment, but in the end, it was Gu Lanqiu who averted her gaze first.

“That depends on your performance.”

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