The Guide to Faking Innocence to Win His Wife - Chapter 38

“Do you want to look at the stars with me?”

A faint, cool breeze brushed through her hair. The girl kept her eyes lowered, her thick lashes casting gray shadows beneath her lids. Her lean back was held straight as a bamboo stalk, hands resting on her knees, well-behaved and silent.

Hearing the question, the hand Xie Zhiyi had threaded through the girl’s hair paused. “What?”

“Look at the stars,” Jiang Zhongmu leaned back and looked up. Her light amber eyes were revealed under the lamplight, clear and clean; one could almost see the fragmented starlight within them. She added, “The sky is clear tonight. Tourists used to love sitting under the tree to watch the stars.”

“Should we go downstairs then?” Xie Zhiyi nodded. The hair oil she had applied earlier left a faint scent of roses on her fingertips.

The hairdryer cut off. The girl’s slightly frizzy hair puffed up, making her look like a big, fluffy dog. It softened her sharp features, giving her an inexplicably endearing, dazed look.

“Not downstairs. Up,” Jiang Zhongmu replied.

“Hmm?”

“To the rooftop,” the Little Leopard smiled, her eyes curving. “My secret base. If you’re willing, give me ten minutes.”

Xie Zhiyi went silent for a moment before agreeing.

The iron door, which had been closed for a long time, creaked open, sending a shower of dust down before revealing the expansive rooftop.

It was clear Jiang Zhongmu had prepared this meticulously. A white canvas was propped up by iron frames to create a triangular tent-like space. Inside was a small wooden table holding a lit candle and a fruit plate. Even the rocking chair from under the tree had been hauled up here. It truly lived up to the name “secret base.”

The girl took her hand and led her inside. The heat from her palm was intense, as scorching as this summer night.

The rocking chair let out a creak as Jiang Zhongmu sat down first. She looked up at Xie Zhiyi, her small, calculating thoughts laid bare in her light amber eyes—like a puppy that had done something good and couldn’t stop wagging its tail at its owner. There was no shortage of stools in the house, and Jiang Zhongmu wasn’t so weak that she could only carry one chair up. Her goal was clear.

Her legs were spread wide, and her shorts were pulled up high, revealing lean, strong legs. The tan was remarkably even. Seeing that Xie Zhiyi wasn’t moving, Jiang Zhongmu patted her thigh.

The elder felt helpless. She didn’t know why this girl wanted to be so clingy in the middle of summer; even at night, it was stiflingly muggy. But the Little Leopard was a seasoned rogue; she just kept looking up, her lopsided tank top revealing a stretch of collarbone. With the starlit sky reflected in her eyes, she was too pure to refuse.

Xie Zhiyi relented. She allowed herself to be pulled down to sit sideways on the girl’s lap. She was still wearing her outfit from the day—a loose, silk-style white shirt and slim-fit light blue jeans. It was a casual look that radiated her gentle, intellectual aura.

Jiang Zhongmu naturally draped an arm over the elder’s waist, her palm pressing against the soft abdomen as she pulled her into her embrace. Xie Zhiyi, forced into a habit of accepting the girl’s bossiness, didn’t resist. She even adjusted her position, leaning into the crook of Jiang Zhongmu’s neck—the relatively softest spot on her.

It was a bit pathetic; this girl was far too thin. At 1.7 meters tall, she barely weighed 50kg. Beneath the thin skin was mostly bone. There were very few soft spots, and she was quite “bony” to lean against. Yet Jiang Zhongmu remained oblivious, thinking her embrace was the height of comfort, insisted on holding Xie Zhiyi every single time.

At this thought, Xie Zhiyi glanced at her, her watery eyes filled with a mix of resentment and helplessness. Jiang Zhongmu, still unaware, simply held her tighter and asked, “Are you cold? Do you need a jacket?”

With a human heater like her around, who needed a jacket? Xie Zhiyi turned her head away and ignored her. Jiang Zhongmu wasn’t angry; she just pulled her closer.

They shifted their gaze toward the horizon. In the night-shrouded town, only scattered lights flickered. The unpolluted sky was brilliant, a deep, mysterious blue dotted with stars that seemed chaotic but held a wondrous rhythm. It was a sight rarely seen in the brightly lit prosperity of the city. When humans find themselves within such a scene, they often sink into it, realizing their own insignificance.

The two were silent for a time, embracing beneath the starlight. Because of the height difference, Xie Zhiyi was already shorter than Jiang Zhongmu, and being held on her lap meant her feet didn’t touch the ground, swaying slightly with the breeze.

The faint scent of Burmese laurel wafted up from the courtyard. The hand on her waist tightened. Jiang Zhongmu finally moved, resting her large, fuzzy head on the elder’s shoulder.

“Sister,” she whispered.

Xie Zhiyi pulled herself away from the night sky. “It’s beautiful.”

Jiang Zhongmu grinned, her dimples deepening. “Not as beautiful as you.”

It was incredibly corny. Xie Zhiyi was speechless and gave her a ruthless critique: “Greasy.”

“I’m being serious,” Jiang Zhongmu straightened her face, trying to prove her sincerity.

“Serious and greasy.”

The Little Leopard pouted. She was annoyed but didn’t dare argue, only muttering, “You’re so boring.”

“Boring is better than greasy,” Xie Zhiyi retorted instantly.

Jiang Zhongmu couldn’t win with words, so she took her “revenge” elsewhere. She shifted forward, her thin lips brushing against the elder’s ear, her scorching breath stirring the hair there. Xie Zhiyi tried to dodge the ticklish sensation, but the bossy girl pressed closer.

“Xie Zhiyi,” she murmured the name syllable by syllable, her voice filled with an unnamable emotion. She pressed against Xie Zhiyi’s neck and tilted her head to nip at the soft earlobe, playing with it like a piece of soft jade.

“Xie Zhiyi,” she sighed, her voice so light it seemed the wind might carry it away.

Xie Zhiyi ignored her. A person who refused to call her “Sister” didn’t deserve a response. She kept her gaze on the stars.

Jiang Zhongmu suddenly spoke: “I’m sorry. When you were on the phone with your friend, I was outside the door.”

The cool night breeze stirred their clothes. The flame of the small candle flickered. Xie Zhiyi lowered her eyes, her long curls lifted by the wind. Her voice was flat. “You heard everything?”

“Yes. From when she asked you what you were thinking,” Jiang Zhongmu was candid. Once she made a decision, she kept nothing hidden.

“And what do you think?” The elder didn’t show a hint of guilt, as if she were the only one allowed to decide the outcome of this tug-of-war. And in truth, the initiative had always been hers.

Jiang Zhongmu pursed her lips. Her fake, silly grin vanished, replaced by a heavy silence. “My eyes weren’t red because of the shower water,” she whispered, her head buried in the woman’s shoulder.

Xie Zhiyi nodded but didn’t respond. The fingers resting on the elder’s abdomen tightened, then stopped with restraint. The veins on the back of the girl’s hand throbbed.

“If you leave, will we really never contact each other again?” Jiang Zhongmu asked hoarsely.

“Jiang Zhongmu…” Xie Zhiyi started quickly, then stopped. She pressed her lips together before saying, “We aren’t a good fit.”

“Then what about her? Was she a better fit than me?”

Children are like this; when faced with trouble, they tend to run into a dead end, stubbornly comparing themselves to others.

Xie Zhiyi answered, “You aren’t like her. You are much better than she ever was.”

False intentions versus sincere love—one didn’t even need to think to make a choice. But… if only Jiang Zhongmu had appeared sooner.

Xie Zhiyi looked at the hem of her shirt. “This isn’t your problem. It’s because of me.”

Jiang Zhongmu held her tighter and tighter, as if her scorching palms could brand themselves into the woman’s flesh. “Give me a chance, please?” she pleaded in a low voice. “I’m not her. I’m different.”

The usually proud Little Leopard lowered her head to beg again and again. “Sister.” Her voice trembled. Her damp, hot breath hit the woman’s neck. “Sister,” she turned her head, her lips sliding across delicate skin.

Xie Zhiyi went silent, her lips pressed tight. The damp warmth of those trembling lips stained her white neck with patches of red.

“I’m going back next week,” Xie Zhiyi finally said. It was like a final judgment, spoken in her usual gentle tone, yet cold as ice shards.

Jiang Zhongmu closed her eyes. “Ten days?” Her voice was hoarse.

Xie Zhiyi would stay here for ten more days. She nodded.

“Xie Zhiyi…” the girl murmured. “Xie Zhiyi, you… you aren’t gentle at all.” Her voice broke, the sob she had been trying to hide finally surfacing. “You’re so mean. You’re terrible. Coward. I hate you so…” She stopped halfway, then added, “You aren’t a responsible adult.”

Xie Zhiyi didn’t argue. It was the truth. Time doesn’t make adults invincible; it just teaches them to shrink into their shells, fearful and pathetic.

Jiang Zhongmu lifted her head and pressed against the woman’s soft lips. Xie Zhiyi didn’t resist; she only looked into the girl’s eyes. The Little Leopard’s eyes were red, her gaze fragmented like shattered gems, disturbing the moonlight on a lake.

Xie Zhiyi closed her eyes and tilted her chin to respond, letting the salty, damp air spread in her mouth. Even at this moment, Jiang Zhongmu was incredibly gentle—like a young beast that had sharp teeth but worried about hurting its prey. She grazed the lips again and again, but ultimately chose not to bite.

Long curls fell over her shoulders as the night wind swept away the last trace of hesitation. Xie Zhiyi swallowed all her words, forcing herself to stop thinking, stop softening.

The previously unsteady rocking chair was silent now, standing firm. Jiang Zhongmu held the woman tight, knowing she couldn’t keep her, yet still making a futile struggle. Again and again, she occupied every space and then withdrew, repeatedly crowding out all of the other’s oxygen.

Xie Zhiyi kept her heart hardened but didn’t move away. She reached up to hook her arms around the girl’s neck, offering herself up to the girl’s lips as a tiny, inadequate compensation.

“Xie Zhiyi…” the child cried out.

Xie Zhiyi raised a hand to cover the girl’s eyes. Thick lashes brushed against her palm, and scorching tears fell, sliding down her fingers to her pulse. Jiang Zhongmu finally bit her—her sharp canines left a faint mark on the inside of the lip. It didn’t even break the skin, yet it made Xie Zhiyi taste the heavy flavor of iron.

The stars flowed, the stream hummed, and an occasional dog barked in the distance. Burmese laurel petals were blown down by the wind, drifting to the ground. The rocking chair began to creak incessantly. Shirt buttons were undone, revealing a slender white neck where messy red marks were deepened and renewed.

Xie Zhiyi ran her hand over the back of the girl’s head, an act that felt like both comfort and a plea for forgiveness. Jiang Zhongmu ignored it, stubbornly burying her head to leave mark after mark that belonged only to her.

A button dropped to the floor, wobbling before coming to a stop.

The sliced fruit finally served a purpose, placed one by one in the hollows of her collarbones, on her soft curves, and upon her lithe abdomen. The crushed juice extinguished the heat ignited by tears, only to be replaced by a new, shivering itch. Xie Zhiyi, held in the girl’s arms, half-closed her eyes, unsure if this was a reward or a punishment.

When fingertips probed inward, Xie Zhiyi held Jiang Zhongmu with all her strength. Her brows lifted slightly, eyes narrowed, and her graceful face seemed to emanate a peach-pink mist. Her beautiful eyes were soul-stirring, like a shimmering, clear lake, misty and filled with water.

As the rough fingertips reached the deepest point, Xie Zhiyi’s mind went blank. Jiang Zhongmu had lost all her usual rationality, probing inward as if to brand her mark into the woman’s very soul.

Loss of control, everything was out of control.

Fingernails left red streaks down the woman’s back. Water dripped to the floor, blooming into vivid flowers. When the final low gasp sounded in her ear, Jiang Zhongmu felt the woman leave a faint mark on the side of her neck. It was restrained and brief, almost imperceptible.

Jiang Zhongmu said nothing; she simply raised the tide once more.

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