The Cold Heroine Turned Into a Yandere After Being - Chapter 21.1

A Kiss Carried by the Mist

As the final notes faded away, Mo Zhu felt a cool, damp touch against her lips a brief, tentative brush that lingered only for a second before retreating.

It lacked the recklessness of the elevator incident and the anger of the stairwell; it was simply a gentle, soft kiss.

Beads of water rolled down Ji Shubai’s jawline, and as one dripped onto her collarbone, Mo Zhu felt her heart skip a beat.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against Ji Shubai’s in a gesture of pure exploration.

Her breath brushed against the other woman’s lips, carrying both the chill of the pool water and the heat of her own body.

The night blurred their vision but amplified every other sense.

The heavy darkness of the night seemed to crack open slightly, as if the wind had pulled back a curtain, allowing a stingy amount of weak moonlight to filter through. It was just enough to outline their proximity, casting a faint glow on their damp skin.

She heard their breathing intertwined and heavy with moisture sounding clearer than the gentle sloshing of the water around them.

The cold fragrance emanating from Ji Shubai, enhanced by the mist, tangled with Mo Zhu’s own warm breath until they were indistinguishable.

Mo Zhu first rubbed her cheek gently against the other’s cool, smooth face, like a large feline marking its territory, her movements carrying a trace of lazy intimacy.

She could feel Ji Shubai tremble slightly. The hand resting on Mo Zhu’s shoulder lost its strength for a moment, her fingertips curling inward.

It felt as though an invisible string had been pulled taut in the air, vibrating with a heart-pounding rhythm.

The arm Mo Zhu had around Ji Shubai’s waist tightened wordlessly, completely eliminating the last bit of negligible distance between them.

Her gaze fell on the moist lips mere inches away. Even in the dim light, their soft silhouette was startlingly clear.

Mo Zhu tilted her head slightly to clear the bridge of the other’s nose, leaning in to leave a kiss before pulling back once, twice, in a rhythmic invitation. Ji Shubai’s eyelashes fluttered, but she did not pull away.

Each momentary separation felt like a maddening blank space, a silent beckoning.

Mo Zhu could feel the weight on her shoulder increasing, the grip of the other woman’s hand like the soft kneading of a kitten.

Finally, she tilted her head and captured those moisture-laden lips with precision.

This time, it was no longer a superficial taste.

Her kiss carried an undeniable force and a deep-seated longing, yet it was not without a certain agonizing patience.

She meticulously traced the soft lines of the other’s lips, feeling that unique softness and coolness gradually warm up under her steady heat until they became searing.

Her tongue brushed lightly over the lips, nudging the seam open. She tasted the crispness of the pool water and the flavor unique to Ji Shubai a sweetness that felt like a place one could drown in.

Ji Shubai seemed caught off guard by this sudden deepening of the kiss. A very soft whimper escaped her throat, and she instinctively tried to tilt her head back to escape, only to be firmly imprisoned by Mo Zhu between her embrace and the water, with nowhere to retreat.

The hand that had been resting on Mo Zhu’s shoulder had, at some point, clenched her soaked clothing. Her knuckles were white, as if she were pushing back, or perhaps like a drowning person clutching their only driftwood.

Mo Zhu quietly opened her eyes, looking down at Ji Shubai’s face so close to her own. Her cold brows were slightly knit, stray hairs clung to her temples, and her eyelashes trembled as if in distress.

She was beautiful and fragile.

Mo Zhu raised her hand to stroke that slender, elegant neck, her thumb tracing the delicate skin through the water.

Her fingertips slid along Ji Shubai’s jaw, tilting it up slightly so she could better receive the kiss.

She took the slightly swollen lower lip into her mouth and sucked gently, feeling the body in her arms grow softer and softer, until it relied almost entirely on her support to keep from sliding into the water.

Their breathing had completely lost all semblance of order, tangling together hotly, more scorching than the surrounding pool water. Droplets continued to roll down their pressed cheeks, and it was no longer possible to tell whose was whose.

They were near the steps of the pool. Mo Zhu suddenly applied force, carrying her toward the stairs and letting her sit halfway upon them.

This posture forced Ji Shubai to lean forward slightly, her hands coming to rest on the sides of Mo Zhu’s neck.

Mo Zhu deepened the kiss from below, filled with a sense of undeniable control.

The water rippled gently around Mo Zhu’s waist, encircling them.

The kiss became more probing and exploratory, as if Mo Zhu intended to leave her mark on every inch of Ji Shubai’s territory.

Her fingertips accidentally brushed against wet hair and burning skin, sending a subtle shiver through the other woman.

She was no longer satisfied with a shallow taste; her tongue issued an invitation, gentle yet firm, guiding that inexperienced response.

She could feel Ji Shubai’s breathing grow increasingly ragged. The hand clenching her collar gradually lost its strength, falling limply onto her shoulders.

The air was filled with the sound of water, suppressed gasps, and the thundering of hearts, impossible to distinguish one from the other.

Ji Shubai felt as though she were melting into the water, melting into Mo Zhu’s burning embrace and the lingering kiss.

The defenses of her reason had long since crumbled, leaving only a surging flood of sensory input.

She closed her eyes, her long, wet eyelashes stuck together and trembling, and finally, she began to respond—clumsy and slow.

That tiny bit of exploration was like a stone cast into a still lake, sending massive ripples through Mo Zhu’s heart.

Mo Zhu sensed this minute change. Her hand at the small of Ji Shubai’s back rubbed gently in comfort, while her other hand strayed to the back of her neck. Her fingers sank into the hair that had turned icy from the water, holding her in place and refusing her even the slightest possibility of retreat.

There was only a primal, intense attraction and demand left, a surging tide that eventually submerged them both.

The moonlight finally seemed to break free from the clouds, casting a weak glow that outlined the tangled silhouettes by the pool. The water shimmered, reflecting their tightly entwined figures, as if the only things left in the world were each other’s breath and heartbeats.

However, in the very next second, without warning.

The lights at the bottom of the pool and the streetlamps along the distant road all flickered on at once, banishing the darkness in an instant.

The world was suddenly wrapped in light, dragging the two of them out of that lingering world where only their breath and heartbeats existed.

Ji Shubai looked as though she had been burned by the light. She tilted her face back and pulled away, abruptly ending the kiss that had nearly suffocated her.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, unaccustomed to the sudden brightness. Her pupils still held the remnants of passion and a clear sense of panic.

Her lips were slightly parted from the kiss, coated in a reddened moisture, looking like a cherry in syrup.

Mo Zhu frowned in dissatisfaction. She instinctively moved forward, wanting to chase that retreating softness and warmth, her arms tightening to pull the other back into that drowning haze.

But Ji Shubai, acting almost on instinct, raised her hand and quickly covered Mo Zhu’s lips as she tried to approach again.

Her palm touched that softness and damp heat, as well as the still-burning breath the other woman exhaled, causing her own fingertips to tremble.

“Enough.” Ji Shubai’s back was to the light source now, her hair dripping and her face flushed with a post-ordeal glow. Her eyes, however, tried to maintain a cold, warning look, her words carrying an air of refusal.

“Miss Ji, this is my payment. Shouldn’t I be the one to decide when it ends?” To Mo Zhu, this expression made the annoyance of being interrupted vanish instantly; instead, she wanted to do more, just to see more of those reactions.

At that moment, not far from the pool, the screen of the phone Ji Shubai had dropped earlier suddenly lit up. A sharp, continuous ringtone pierced the subtle, tense air.

The ringtone sounded like a bugle call for a tactical retreat.

Ji Shubai looked as if she had found a life-saving straw and immediately used the opportunity to break completely free from Mo Zhu’s embrace.

She kicked off the one remaining shoe she was wearing and stumbled up from the pool steps. Her soaked clothing clung tightly to her, outlining her slender frame, while the water droplets falling from her sparkled under the lights.

She didn’t answer the phone immediately. Instead, she turned around and reached out a hand toward Mo Zhu, who was still half-submerged in the water.

Mo Zhu looked at the hand. Instead of taking it, she made a move as if to slide backward into the water, seemingly wanting to repeat the trick of hiding beneath the surface.

“Don’t you dare try that again!” Ji Shubai immediately saw through her intention and warned her in a low voice. The warning in her eyes intensified, and she extended her hand a bit further with an undeniable resolve.

Mo Zhu let out a soft laugh and finally reached out, taking the cool but firm hand. She allowed Ji Shubai to pull her forcefully out of the water.

The two of them stood by the poolside, completely drenched, as water stains quickly spread into a dark patch beneath their feet.

The phone continued to ring persistently.

Ji Shubai finally let go of Mo Zhu’s hand and walked quickly over to pick up the phone. A name was dancing on the screen.

Before answering, she cast one last glance back at Mo Zhu. Her usually cold eyes were shimmering with water, a complex mix of lingering passion still visible.

“I’m going to take this call.”

Mo Zhu nodded, watching as the other woman held the phone and walked a bit further away—barefoot before answering.

She saw Ji Shubai turn her body slightly, pressing the phone to her ear.

She couldn’t hear what the person on the other end was saying, but Ji Shubai’s features softened visibly. Her usual cold outer shell seemed to melt quietly under the lights.

Because of the distance and the damp air, Mo Zhu couldn’t hear the words clearly, but the voice that drifted back was a tone she had never heard before—an almost tender, soft cadence.

Mo Zhu’s pupils narrowed slightly as she watched the curve of the other’s neck, tilted down in a submissive listening posture. A subtle prickle of annoyance, like a tiny vine, silently wound around her heart.

The sea breeze blew through her wet hair. A few drops of water rolled down her jaw. She instinctively rubbed her fingertips together; the sensation of touching the delicate skin of Ji Shubai’s neck and her wet hair still seemed to linger there.

“Who is calling her?”

It’s the female lead’s mother, Xiao Ta answered.

Hearing this, the faint tension in Mo Zhu’s eyes vanished. Even her soaked clothes didn’t seem quite so irritating anymore.

She looked at her drenched self, then at Ji Shubai, who was hugging herself with one arm against the wind.

Mo Zhu put on her shoes and walked into the brightly lit house. She found two clean, sterilized towels in the downstairs bathroom.

She gave herself a quick, rough rub-down before heading back out.

When she returned with the towels, Ji Shubai had wandered a few meters further away.

Mo Zhu walked up to her. Sensing her presence, Ji Shubai glanced up at her briefly during a gap in her conversation. That gaze still held the tenderness meant for the person on the phone.

But when she looked at Mo Zhu, she froze for a second, a flicker of alertness and warning immediately entering her eyes, as if to say, “Don’t make a sound.”

Mo Zhu received the look. Instead of stopping, she let a faint, knowing smile touch her lips.

Seeing this, Ji Shubai’s eyes gained a touch of “entreaty,” clearly hoping she wouldn’t do anything reckless.

Mo Zhu looked at her, raised the towel in her hand as a gesture, and mouthed: I won’t cause trouble.

Ji Shubai was skeptical, but her mother’s voice came through the phone, so she had to focus on the call.

“Yes, I know, Mom.”

Mo Zhu had already walked right in front of Ji Shubai. Without giving her time to react, she gently draped the towel over the top of her head, half-wrapping the hair that had become cold and damp.

Her movements weren’t very practiced in fact, they were a bit haphazard—but the strength she used was perfectly controlled.

Through the soft cotton towel, Ji Shubai could feel Mo Zhu’s palms meticulously rubbing her wet hair, absorbing the droplets that were falling from the strands.

The subtle sound of water being soaked up by the towel made a soft rustling noise.

Ji Shubai froze in place, her hand clenching the phone. Her vision was mostly obscured by the towel; she could only see Mo Zhu’s jawline through the gaps.

She instinctively wanted to raise her hand, but Mo Zhu lightly pressed down on her wrist, signaling her to continue her call.

However, Ji Shubai’s responses to the phone became somewhat distracted. There were occasional short pauses, and her gaze drifted, not quite daring to meet Mo Zhu’s eyes. Her fair neck seemed to gradually become tinged with a faint blush again.

She seemed to want to turn away, but she forced herself to remain still, her fingertips tightening on the phone.

Ji Shubai’s mother called her name a few times on the other end before she snapped back to attention.

“Mom, I have to go. I’ll come back to see you in a couple of days.”

Ji Shubai hung up the phone in a hurry. She raised her hand to grab the towel, but accidentally touched Mo Zhu’s hand.

“I’ll  do it myself.” Ji Shubai’s voice was muffled by the towel, carrying a hint of hidden panic.

“Don’t move,” Mo Zhu’s voice was full of a smile, but her hands didn’t stop. “Miss Ji was quite frightened just now. I’m currently making amends for my crimes.”

As she spoke, her movements slowed down, turning into something more like a caress. Her fingertips would occasionally touch Ji Shubai’s scalp or the shell of her ear through the towel, sending a subtle shiver through the other woman.

Mo Zhu took a dry section of the towel and began to wipe her cheeks and neck.

The movement changed; it was no longer just about absorbing water. Her fingers, separated by the soft fabric, moved slowly almost lingeringly across Ji Shubai’s jawline, wiping away the droplets rolling down.

Passing the sensitive side of her neck, she even carefully avoided her still-reddened ears, yet lingered nearby, creating a heart-pounding itchiness.

Mo Zhu’s gaze was substantial as it swept over Ji Shubai’s flushed earlobes, finally landing on those closed lips—they were still slightly swollen, a clear record of the intensity from moments ago.

Ji Shubai clearly felt this overly focused and predatory stare.

She grabbed Mo Zhu’s wrist, stopping her next move. Her eyes were moist as she glared at Mo Zhu, her breathing unsteady. “That’s enough.”

Mo Zhu looked down at the hand on her wrist, then up at Ji Shubai’s flushed face. She stopped her movements with easy grace, saying lazily, “Alright then. The rest… Miss Ji will do herself?”

“Mm.” Ji Shubai took the towel from her hands and turned away with a touch of haste, rubbing her head haphazardly.

“Let’s go back. The wind is strong out here,” Mo Zhu said. She walked back to the edge of the pool to pick up the shoe the other woman had left behind. The other one was still at the bottom of the water.

Ji Shubai also noticed her shoe at the bottom, all thanks to the culprit’s handiwork.

“Forget it. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” Ji Shubai’s lips were a bit pale; perhaps the wind was too cold.

With only one high heel, it was difficult to walk. Fortunately, the paths here were quite flat. Ji Shubai intended to just walk back barefoot.

But Mo Zhu had no intention of listening. While Ji Shubai had her back turned, she jumped into the pool.

Ji Shubai was startled by the sudden splash behind her and spun around.

Mo Zhu had already submerged, sending ripples out across the water.

The next second, Mo Zhu’s head popped up. Her wet hair was slicked back, revealing a clear forehead and a bright, laughing face.

Held high in her hand was the very high heel that had fallen to the bottom.

Water rolled down her raised arm, sliding along the smooth lines of her limb and shimmering in the dim light.

She wiped the water from her face and flashed a proud, somewhat childish grin at the woman on the bank, as if saying, “Look, I found it.”

Ji Shubai stood frozen, watching Mo Zhu approach her with the shoe held up like a trophy.

In that moment, before her anger could fully rise, it was blocked in her chest by a much more complex and surging emotion.

“Here,” Mo Zhu said as she climbed out. Her breathing was a bit labored from the swim, but the smile in her voice was clear and bright. “Now you don’t have to walk barefoot.”

Water continued to roll off her hair, her chin, and even her eyelashes.

She stood there, her skin looking even fairer from the cold. Her silhouette, outlined by her wet clothes, looked hazy in the night, yet her eyes were scorching. She had an expression that was a mix of mischief and sincerity—like someone who had done something good and was waiting for praise.

Ji Shubai looked at the shoe offered to her, then at the woman standing there dripping wet with an overly radiant smile. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to be angry or  feel something else.

Mo Zhu watched her step forward and drape the towel over her shoulders, her brows knit tight.

“Miss Ji, I jumped in to get your shoe back. Why won’t you give me a smile? I don’t do good deeds like this every day.”

Hearing this, Ji Shubai looked up at her. “Whose fault was it that it fell in?”

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

Ji Shubai pursed her lips. “It’s not like it was anything important.”

“Then what is important?” Mo Zhu asked.

Ji Shubai didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “Go back quickly. If you stay out in the wind, you’ll catch a fever again.”

As if on cue, Mo Zhu actually let out a sneeze.

In the end, she walked back into the house under Ji Shubai’s icy gaze.

Both were drenched. After grabbing a change of clothes, they went to separate bathrooms to shower.

Mo Zhu went to the guest bathroom. After showering and drying her hair, she saw Ji Shubai walk in through the open door, holding a cup.

“I asked the staff to bring some cold medicine,” Ji Shubai said, handing her the cup.

Mo Zhu took the cup and glanced at it. A faint medicinal scent wafted up. “Did you take some too?”

Ji Shubai’s gaze flickered almost imperceptibly before returning to Mo Zhu’s face. Her tone was flat. “Yes, I’ve had some.”

Mo Zhu held the cup but didn’t drink it immediately. She just looked at Ji Shubai with a hint of scrutiny.

Suddenly, she took a step toward her.

Ji Shubai instinctively backed up half a pace. Watching Mo Zhu’s face suddenly approach, her heart missed a beat for no reason.

“What is it?”

Mo Zhu didn’t answer. She just leaned in closer, her nose almost touching Ji Shubai’s cheek and the corner of her mouth.

She gave a light sniff.

There was no trace of the slightly bitter scent of cold medicine.

“Miss Ji, it’s not right to lie to me.” She spoke slowly, her voice quiet but carrying an undeniable certainty.

Ji Shubai’s eyelashes trembled, but she didn’t speak.

So, Mo Zhu brought the cup to the other’s lips. “Drink.”

Ji Shubai leaned away slightly, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. A clear trace of resistance flickered through her cold eyes.

Mo Zhu looked at her with newfound interest. “Miss Ji, surely you aren’t afraid of taking medicine?”

Perhaps because she had been found out, Ji Shubai looked at her. “You’re the one who went into the water twice, and I’m not the one sneezing.”

Mo Zhu laughed and said leisurely, “You can choose to drink it yourself, or I can help you.”

Her tone sounded like a joke, but the look in her eyes seemed quite eager to try.

As if making a final decision, Ji Shubai took a deep breath, finally took the cup, and downed a large gulp.

Mo Zhu watched Ji Shubai’s reaction with great interest. The woman didn’t look like her usual self-possessed, cold self at all. She looked exactly like a child being forced to take medicine aggrieved but not daring to speak out.

Seeing this rare sight, a dense mirth and a sense of novelty gathered in Mo Zhu’s eyes. She had to struggle not to laugh out loud, but her lips were already curling upward uncontrollably.

She leaned forward, close to Ji Shubai, and whispered in a teasing tone, “So Miss Ji is afraid of bitterness? Next time… should I prepare some candy for you?”

Ji Shubai ignored her. She put the cup in Mo Zhu’s hand. “Go make your own.”

“Oh.” Mo Zhu looked at the medicinal residue at the bottom of the cup, a trace of resistance flashing through her own eyes.

Did this count as their only commonality? Neither liked bitter things.

Ji Shubai caught that momentary hesitation and “escorted” her into making a new packet of medicine and drinking it before she was satisfied.

As Mo Zhu drank the medicine, she thought that Ji Shubai’s personality seemed a bit vengeful.

If she ever found out what Mo Zhu was actually doing, who knew how she would react?

After their slightly childish “confrontation” over the medicine ended, a brief silence fell.

As they went upstairs together, Mo Zhu noticed Ji Shubai slowing her pace. She turned to look.

Ji Shubai kept her gaze down. After taking a small breath, she looked up, trying to keep her tone flat despite a trace of hesitation.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

Mo Zhu stopped and looked at her.

Ji Shubai seemed to realize that asking this now carried a lingering, unavoidable ambiguity.

She tried to explain, but her mouth opened and closed without knowing what to say.

Mo Zhu’s gaze traveled over Ji Shubai’s slightly tense face. “Where does Miss Ji want me to sleep?”

Ji Shubai avoided her gaze. “Up to you.”

With that, she turned as if to leave the uncomfortable conversation.

However, the moment she turned, the teasing smile on Mo Zhu’s face quietly faded.

Her gaze fell on Ji Shubai’s slender back. Her slightly damp hair rested against the soft fabric of her robe, revealing a pale, fragile stretch of neck.

The kiss in the pool that had spiraled out of control, the shivers of delicate skin beneath her fingertips, Ji Shubai’s clumsy but real response, and her face when she was enduring the bitter medicine… all the images flashed through her mind like shards.

A strange and surging emotion caught her off guard, hitting her heart fast and hard. Mo Zhu instinctively clenched her fingers, the pressure making her palm ache slightly.

She suddenly realized her heart was beating far too fast.

It wasn’t just because of the teasing. It was something else… something more uncontrollable.

If she stayed in the same space, looking at Ji Shubai like that, she wasn’t sure if she could maintain her usual effortless facade.

Everything that happened tonight had already exceeded her usual sphere of control.

“I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

Mo Zhu’s voice sounded, with less of a joking tone than usual.

Ji Shubai stopped. It seemed she hadn’t expected her to make that choice so quickly.

Mo Zhu’s tone became light, even carrying a touch of deliberate distance. “I won’t disturb Miss Ji’s rest then.”

Ji Shubai didn’t turn around. She looked down quickly and then up again. “Up to you.”

Mo Zhu watched her enter the room and stood there for a moment before leaving.

At this hour, Xiao Ta had already entered its automatic sleep mode. She actively woke it up to ask about the favorability level after this plot point.

I thought you didn’t care.

Mo Zhu wondered if she was imagining the sarcastic tone. “Cut the chatter.”

Current favorability level is 63. You have two more queries remaining today.

It passed the passing grade.

Mo Zhu felt she should be happy, but.

“Are you sure there’s no error?”

Please rest assured. We have strict monitoring mechanisms; the error rate is extremely low.

“So there is a possibility of error.”

That’s true, but you can trust us. The probability is infinitely close to zero.

Mo Zhu didn’t speak. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress the nameless emotion in her chest.

Whatever. Go to sleep.

Yet thirty minutes later, she opened her eyes not a trace of sleepiness in them and sat up.

What was that supposed to mean? They kissed like that, and the favorability was only 63?

It seemed she still hadn’t done enough.

The next day, Mo Zhu was fine, but Ji Shubai seemed unwell after last night’s antics; she looked a bit drained.

They were originally scheduled to return today, but Mo Zhu made a snap decision to stay one more day.

“Didn’t you take the medicine? Why didn’t it work?” Mo Zhu looked at Ji Shubai, who was reclining on the bed, and leaned in. “Surely you didn’t spit it out behind my back after going to your room?”

Ji Shubai, who was drinking water, choked slightly at her words. She gave the other woman a somewhat speechless look. “President Mo, I am not a three-year-old child.”

“Is that so? Then who was it that lied to me about taking medicine?”

Aware she was in the wrong, Ji Shubai looked down and resumed sipping her water.

“Miss Ji, I feel that your constitution is a bit weak. You feel light as a feather. When we get back, I’ll sign you up for some fitness courses.”

She had wanted to say it yesterday when she was holding her in the pool; she felt weightless.

As if she had heard her inner thoughts, Ji Shubai put the cup down again. “President Mo, getting sick is an occasional occurrence. Besides, there is buoyancy in the water.” Even if not much.

“Oh? Should I try holding you right now to test it?”

Ji Shubai refused decisively. “No need.” After speaking, she felt it was strange. The distance she had felt from Mo Zhu last night had vanished again, as if it had been a mere hallucination.

Mo Zhu laughed and stood up. “I’ll go tell the others. You rest in the room for now.”

Ji Shubai wanted to say it wasn’t necessary—she was only slightly uncomfortable but Mo Zhu didn’t give her the chance before leaving.

Most of the wedding guests left that day, with only a few remaining.

After Mo Zhu told Mo Tang the reason they were staying another day, Mo Tang immediately called a local doctor to check on Ji Shubai. Upon learning it wasn’t anything serious, the doctor simply prescribed some medicine.

Xia Yitian was quite happy to hear the news. After all, she had finally managed to escape her sister’s clutches; she had planned to stay a few extra days anyway.

Ji Shubai’s constitution wasn’t as weak as Mo Zhu claimed. After taking the new medicine and sleeping for the morning, she was visibly better.

Mo Zhu nestled on the bedroom sofa, handling some company affairs online.

In the afternoon, Mo Tang came by to invite them for dinner.

Ji Shubai was in much better shape, though her voice was still a bit husky.

The two changed into comfortable clothes and headed out.

The restaurant was outside the hotel, right by the beach.

The spacious wooden structure opened toward the sea. The salty, warm sea breeze blew in without hindrance, mixing with the rich aromas of grilled seafood, spices, and alcohol.

The background music was a light Reggae style; the drumbeats and bass thrummed through hidden speakers. It wasn’t deafening, but enough that a conversation required raising one’s voice slightly.

When they arrived, the others were already seated around a long wooden table laid with colorful cocktails and small appetizers.

Seeing Mo Zhu and Ji Shubai approaching one after the other, Mo Tang was the first to wave with a smile.

“Over here! We saved spots for you.”

Mo Zhu naturally pulled out a chair for Ji Shubai, right next to Mo Tang, while she sat between her and Xia Yitian.

Xia Yitian’s eyes sparkled as she looked between the two. She leaned toward Mo Zhu and whispered teasingly, “You don’t look like you ate gunpowder today.”

Mo Zhu gave her a sidelong glance, took a sip of iced water, and hooked her lips into her usual smile. “Why? Want some?”

Xia Yitian scoffed. “My brain isn’t broken.”

“How are you feeling, Miss Ji?” Mo Tang asked politely from across the table.

“I’m fine now, thank you for asking.” Her voice was still slightly husky, but her tone was calm.

Ye Wanqing, sitting beside Mo Tang, kept looking over at Ji Shubai after she sat down. “Miss Ji must be the junior sister Qiao Ying was talking about?”

Ji Shubai nodded.

“I’ve long heard Qiao Ying praise her very talented and beautiful junior. I didn’t expect to meet you here,” Ye Wanqing said with a smile.

“Yes, it’s quite a coincidence.” As Mo Zhu spoke, she reached out and intercepted the drink in Ji Shubai’s hand. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you in person. Happy wedding.”

But the moment she raised the glass, it was pressed back down. Mo Zhu replaced the cocktail in her hand with a glass of what looked like fruit juice.

Under the warm yellow lights of the restaurant, Ji Shubai’s complexion wasn’t as flushed as usual and her lips were pale, but her eyes were clear. She had her usual sense of distance, yet when she met Mo Zhu’s eyes, they flickered almost imperceptibly.

This small movement was caught by the person across from them. Although there was surprise, it wasn’t shown too obviously.

“It seems President Mo is quite a good boss,” Ye Wanqing teased kindly.

Mo Zhu raised her glass toward the newlyweds. “As I should be. Happy wedding.”

The small interlude quickly passed. Everyone chatted casually about work or life.

Eventually, the conversation turned to how the newlyweds met, and everyone was quite supportive.

Ji Shubai listened to their story—how the two had overcome countless difficulties to be together, especially the gap in social status. It wasn’t a distance that could be bridged simply with a “I like you.”

She suddenly thought of what she had said to Mo Zhu before—that people like Mo Zhu wouldn’t do anything that “damaged” their own interests, like “repaying a debt with one’s body.” Thinking of this, she couldn’t help but look at Mo Zhu beside her.

Mo Zhu was turned, talking to someone. A smile played on her lips, and her features looked exceptionally vivid under the restaurant’s blurred lights. Occasionally, she would laugh at someone’s joke, her neck tracing a smooth, beautiful line.

She seemed completely integrated into the noisy, relaxed atmosphere—effortless and radiant.

She seemed like a different person from the predatory one in the pool who almost devoured her, or the one who forced her to take medicine then turned distant over a question of where to sleep.

Ji Shubai stared, slightly dazed.

Until Mo Zhu seemed to sense her gaze and suddenly turned her head.

Their eyes collided without warning in the noisy air.

The music just happened to reach a crescendo, the electric guitar wave suddenly intensifying.

Ji Shubai’s heart jumped violently as if hit by the sound. She instinctively wanted to look away but found herself caught by those laughing, probing eyes. For a moment, she couldn’t move her gaze.

Mo Zhu didn’t speak either. She just looked at her, the smile at the corners of her mouth seemingly deepening—or perhaps not.

Her finger, resting on the back of the chair, very discreetly brushed the ends of Ji Shubai’s hair that was draped over her back.

It was a tiny, infinitesimal movement—through the hair, it might have even been accidental.

Yet Ji Shubai felt the small patch of skin that was touched suddenly burn. Even the tips of her ears began to feel hot.

She began to focus on the drink in her hand what looked like juice but was actually a fruit wine as if finding a temporary refuge from her panicked emotions.

She sipped at the low-alcohol wine until the glass was nearly empty.

Perhaps because the sweet and sour taste made it easy for the alcohol to go to her head, she ended up drinking quite a few glasses, one after another.

When dinner was over, the waiters cleared the plates and brought out dessert and more drinks. The rhythm of the background music became more distinct and driving, carrying a certain undeniable invitation.

Someone at a neighboring table started it a few enthusiastic guests stood up and began to move rhythmically to the music on the sand by the tables.

This was like a stone cast into a still pond. Soon, more and more people joined in. Mo Tang was laughed into standing up by Ye Wanqing, and Xia Yitian was already on the side, cheering them on.

Laughter, cheers, and driving music intertwined, making the air feel like it was boiling.

Mo Zhu looked at Ji Shubai. Under the warm yellow light, the lines of her profile were soft and her eyelashes were low. Her cheeks were flushed with a layer of red, looking exceptionally moving in the hazy light.

A thought suddenly flashed through Mo Zhu’s mind, carrying an undeniable temptation.

Mo Zhu leaned in, her voice melding into the music. “Miss Ji, want to join?”

Ji Shubai looked up. “I don’t really know how.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mo Zhu stood up and naturally extended her hand toward Ji Shubai. Her eyes were exceptionally bright in the flickering light. “I can teach you.”

Ji Shubai looked at the hand in front of her—the fingers were well-defined and neatly groomed.

She looked up at Mo Zhu, who had a smile on her lips, waiting patiently.

Perhaps the alcohol had slowed her reactions, or the music was too bewitching, or perhaps Mo Zhu’s gaze was simply too focused.

She hesitated, but finally placed her hand lightly in Mo Zhu’s palm.

Mo Zhu satisfiedly closed her fingers, pulling her up. Instead of heading into the center of the crowd, she led her around to a relatively quiet corner on the side of the open space.

The light was dimmer here, with only the blurred glow from the restaurant’s interior reaching them. The noise also felt a layer away.

“Fewer people here, so Miss Ji doesn’t have to feel embarrassed,” Mo Zhu whispered with a laugh. Her other hand rested lightly on the side of Ji Shubai’s waist.

Ji Shubai’s body stiffened instantly. Through the thin fabric, the warmth and presence of that palm were far too clear.

“Relax,” Mo Zhu’s voice was close, her breath brushing the shell of her ear. “Just follow me.”

When Ji Shubai said she didn’t know how, she really meant it. She accidentally stepped on Mo Zhu’s feet several times.

“It seems Miss Ji didn’t lie to me this time.” Mo Zhu was only thankful she wasn’t wearing high heels; otherwise, she could have kissed her feet goodbye.

Mo Zhu looked down at her. The other woman had her eyes lowered, long eyelashes casting small shadows. Her cheeks were crimson, her usual coldness blurred by the alcohol and the current atmosphere, revealing a rare, almost innocent softness.

“Did you sneak some wine?” she asked.

“The one you gave me was fruit wine. I drank it openly,” Ji Shubai retorted with dissatisfaction. “Besides, the alcohol content isn’t high.”

Mo Zhu listened and said, “Drinking even while sick? So Miss Ji is a little drunkard.”

Ji Shubai gave her a look of disagreement but didn’t speak; after all, she had been drinking.

As they moved to the music, Mo Zhu’s guidance was no longer limited to dance steps. The hand on Ji Shubai’s back would occasionally move a tiny, almost imperceptible stroke, appearing accidental yet feeling deliberate.

The world around them seemed to fade and blur. The noisy music and the laughter of others became distant background noise.

The music shifted at that moment, the rhythm slowing down into a soft, romantic melody.

In the dim light, the air seemed to become thick and cloying.

Mo Zhu stopped leading her through the steps. The hand at the small of Ji Shubai’s back shifted into what was essentially an embrace.

Ji Shubai didn’t push her away. Perhaps because the alcohol had numbed her reason, or the atmosphere was too enchanting, or perhaps she simply didn’t want to.

Mo Zhu could hear their heartbeats becoming increasingly clear. Through their pressed bodies, she could even feel the subtle vibration of the other’s chest.

It was that strange feeling again. Mo Zhu felt as though she were being slowly roasted over a low flame. Her reason was melting bit by bit, and a strange sensation spread through her entire body.

A sense of retreat sparked within her. Mo Zhu prepared to let go, intending to use distance to cool herself down.

But Ji Shubai seemed to sense her intention. She wrapped her arms around Mo Zhu’s waist.

Mo Zhu’s movements halted. She looked down at her.

“You want to run again?” Ji Shubai’s tone seemed to carry a hint of indignation.

Mo Zhu felt her reason completely dissolve in that moment.

***