You Should’ve Said Earlier that you’re Such a Little Flirt! - Chapter 40

It was like a specific layer in a painting had been completely deleted.

Xu Qingqiong pressed her fingers against her temples, frowning with a slight headache. She desperately wanted to remember, but her memories were like colors that had been stirred and muddled together—mottled, blurry, and impossible to distinguish.

Lin Konglu was equally curious about the same problem. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to investigate it before. Her own memory of that period was much more profound.

On that day, Ye Jianguo had knelt before Xu Qingqiong in front of a massive crowd. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he put on a pitiful display, begging for forgiveness. Subconsciously, Lin Konglu felt Ye Jianguo was a hypocrite, and she didn’t quite understand why Xu Qingqiong eventually agreed to go with him.

But looking back later, it was clearly a case of a shameless middle-aged man using the pressure of public opinion to coerce a minor. Adults always think from an adult’s perspective; Ye Jianguo, with a face that appeared sincere enough, had managed to deceive a crowd of people.

Surrounded by a dense, suffocating crowd of onlookers, let alone Xu Qingqiong, even a mature adult would have found it impossible to escape the situation. At the time, though Lin Konglu didn’t understand, she felt a deep sense of unease. At the very moment Xu Qingqiong stepped into the car, Lin Konglu insisted on going along.

Ye Jianguo probably hadn’t expected an extra person in the car and appeared very nervous. He was already speeding, and in a moment of inattention, he collided head-on with another vehicle. The car flipped, crashed through the guardrails, and tumbled down.

The accident happened in a flash; the world turned upside down.

At the exact moment the vehicle overturned, Xu Qingqiong quickly wrapped both arms around her. By the time the rolling stopped, the car body was severely deformed and twisted.

Because the front seat area remained slightly more spacious, Ye Jianguo cursed as he crawled out through a window. He glanced back at them once before limping away into the distance.

In that cramped, distorted space, Lin Konglu could see nothing. Her mind was a complete blank as her head rested against Xu Qingqiong’s chest. Their positions had been fixed by the impact—tightly wedged and unable to move.

She could only hear Xu Qingqiong’s voice and feel the sticky, warm blood on her hands, though she didn’t know where it was coming from.

Xu Qingqiong was the first to react, calling her name to confirm she was okay. Xu Qingqiong mentioned she had hit her head and that her arm hurt a bit—likely a cut. She kept talking to comfort Lin Konglu, insisting she was fine.

“But overall, it’s not a big deal. We just have to wait for rescue.”

Her tone was relaxed and natural, and her voice didn’t sound weak. Her lies were told with such a mix of truth and fiction that it really seemed like her injuries weren’t serious. Since she said so, Lin Konglu believed her, immediately holding back her tears and replying, “Okay.”

That was until she realized Xu Qingqiong was shaking—physiologically and uncontrollably. Unable to see the situation, Lin Konglu could only ask, “What’s wrong?”

It took a while for Xu Qingqiong to answer. Her voice was very soft. “I’m… a little cold.”

Panic surged again. Lin Konglu tried her best to hold her tight, using her own body heat to embrace her. “How about now?”

Xu Qingqiong let out a small laugh and waited a long moment before answering, “A little better.” It was unclear if she was intentionally trying to comfort her.

Lin Konglu could hear that Xu Qingqiong’s heartbeat was abnormally fast, and she had stopped speaking. A terrible premonition struck Lin Konglu. She called out anxiously, “Qingqiong?”

They were trapped inside, hands and feet bound by the wreckage like two small ants stuck in a paper box. In the face of sudden calamity, they were utterly powerless. Lin Konglu could only try to press closer to her, shouting her name loudly.

Finally, after several minutes, Xu Qingqiong responded.

Speaking seemed labored for her now, and her breathing was heavy as if she couldn’t catch her breath. Yet her voice remained calm as she comforted her and prepared her for what was coming. “I’m fine. It’s likely just dizziness from losing too much blood from the wound on my arm.”

“I might go into shock in a little while, so it’s normal if you can’t wake me up. Don’t be afraid.”

Her tone was too calm, too certain, so Lin Konglu didn’t doubt her for the moment. Having said so much in one breath, Xu Qingqiong found it hard to keep going. She closed her eyes to rest for a second, then suddenly said: “I’m sorry… for getting you hurt.”

The sentence carried a faint hint of a final farewell. Lin Konglu’s heart suddenly sank. She shook her head. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

Xu Qingqiong’s voice sounded exhausted. “I want to sleep for a bit…”

Lin Konglu’s tears were already uncontrollable. No matter how little she understood, she could hear the subtext of those words. “No!”

The corners of Xu Qingqiong’s lips curved slightly as she comforted her intermittently. “Alright… I’m fine… don’t cry…”

Those were the last words Xu Qingqiong spoke to her.

Inside that cramped, narrow space, the sharp, piercing sound of the wind whistled outside. It felt as if a long time had passed; the silence blurred the concept of time until it felt like a century had gone by. All her senses began to fade.

The only thing she could feel was Xu Qingqiong’s body losing heat and her heartbeat growing slower and slower…

Lin Konglu tried her hardest to appear calm because she remembered Xu Qingqiong telling her not to be afraid. But she couldn’t help it. In this situation, she felt as though she could do nothing but cry.

A sense of powerlessness washed over her. Lin Konglu loathed herself from the bottom of her heart; tears were such cowardly things. She pressed her ear tightly against Xu Qingqiong’s chest, listening to the faint thumping inside, terrified that she would hear bad news at any moment.

To avoid surveillance cameras, Ye Jianguo had specifically chosen a road with very little traffic. By the time someone discovered them and rescue arrived, two hours had passed.

Two hours.

It was enough time to miss many critical windows. One could only feel the life force ebbing away in vain as terror boiled in the mind.

Lin Konglu rarely reminisced. She was busy; Lin Shuhai gave her many tasks, and she was like a tireless machine. When the body is too busy, the brain doesn’t have much time for memories. But occasionally, when she had a moment of leisure, her mind would uncontrollably replay the scenes of that day.

After the rescue arrived, Lin Konglu’s foot was stuck in a gap in the seat and required the firefighters to break the window. She couldn’t wait any longer; the priority was getting Xu Qingqiong to the hospital first.

Thus, her final memory of that day was the sinking sunset, the orange-red light enveloping the earth, and a white ambulance racing away in her vision, leaving behind a blurred, tiny silhouette.

Xu Qingqiong found her medical records in the safe—a thick stack of them. She even found the contact information for her former attending physician.

There was too much to go through, and she wasn’t in a hurry to read them now. She packed them up along with the photo album, intending to take them all home.

She had taken a taxi there. Since Lin Konglu had been busy lately, she hadn’t asked the driver to drop her off. So, she was a bit surprised to see Lin Konglu arrive. She got into the car. “What are you doing here? Is work over?”

Lin Konglu’s lips curved slightly. “I got off work on time today.”

“What is this?”

Xu Qingqiong gave an “oh” and reached back to place the items on the back seat. “I was tidying up Grandma’s safe. I’m taking these home to look at.”

After she put the items away, she asked, “Have you had dinner yet? If not, let’s go eat together.”

Lin Konglu replied, “Not yet. What do you feel like eating?”

Xu Qingqiong suggested, “How about ramen?”

“Sure,” Lin Konglu agreed.

After finishing their meal, Lin Konglu suddenly said, “Shall we go watch a movie?”

Watch a movie? Xu Qingqiong almost thought she had misheard. She never expected such a typical leisure activity to be suggested by Lin Konglu.

Actually, they had a projector at home, but because Lin Konglu was always so busy with work, it had never been used; only Xu Qingqiong would watch something on it occasionally.

Xu Qingqiong replied, “Ah, okay, sure.”

They arrived a bit late, and the movie had already started. Xu Qingqiong actually quite enjoyed movies, but she usually watched them alone or occasionally with friends. She had never watched one with Lin Konglu before, making it a novel experience. This wasn’t just “watching a movie”—it felt like a real date.

The two found their seats in the darkness and sat down.

Ten minutes into the film, the plot was already unfolding. One of the female leads held a paintbrush, her face calm as she stared at the scenery before her, sketching. The other female lead had fallen asleep under the sunlight, her eyes closed drowsily, unconsciously revealing the elegant, delicate lines of her neck and the steady rise and fall of her chest, which happened to be perfectly framed within the artist’s view.

The cinematography was superb. While the scene wasn’t explicit at all, the combination of the golden, sinking sunlight and the restless, anxious atmosphere made it feel inexplicably sultry and seductive. The silent ambient sound was supplemented only by the sound of a heartbeat.

Xu Qingqiong unconsciously grabbed Lin Konglu’s hand beside her.

On the screen, the lead holding the paintbrush gazed blankly at the scene. Oil paint accidentally dripped from her brush onto the canvas. Her throat moved as she swallowed, her breathing grew slightly rapid, and tiny beads of sweat broke out on the tip of her nose.

A silent undercurrent surged, and the atmosphere abruptly entered a stage of heated, restless tension.

Xu Qingqiong took a deep breath, desperately wanting to press pause on the screen. What is up with this movie! she thought.

At that moment, Lin Konglu took the opportunity to interlace their fingers, gently stroking the spaces between Xu Qingqiong’s fingers with her fingertips.

Xu Qingqiong, unable to handle the provocation right now, turned her head to give her a slightly frustrated look. Lin Konglu, however, acted as if she had done nothing at all, meeting her gaze calmly and even mouthing the words, “What’s wrong?”

Xu Qingqiong felt certain she was doing it on purpose. She endured it for a moment, then gripped Lin Konglu’s hand indignantly to keep her from moving further.

The movie continued, but Xu Qingqiong no longer had the heart to watch it. She had seen movies far more explicit and suggestive than this before and had always felt indifferent. Yet, this short few minutes of footage had her emotions in a turmoil—ultimately, it was only because Lin Konglu was sitting right next to her.

Lin Konglu was still looking at her. Xu Qingqiong glanced around the theater, met her eyes, and quickly kissed her on the cheek. Leaning close to her ear, she whispered, “Let’s not watch the rest. Let’s go home.”

Then, like a pair of newly minted young lovers, the two of them slipped out of the cinema carefully, feeling a sense of guilty excitement as if they were sneaking off on a secret tryst.

Xu Qingqiong held her hand and ran fast, the wind whistling past her ears and her heart thumping loudly in her chest. They got into the car and slammed the doors shut. She had never felt like the road home was so long.

The front door was slammed shut with a heavy thud.

Xu Qingqiong didn’t hold back any longer. She impatiently wrapped her arms around Lin Konglu’s neck and kissed her deeply. Lin Konglu gripped her waist tightly, pulling her close.

…

Her snow-white skin sank into the soft, dark leather of the sofa, the lush contrast providing a sharp visual stimulus.

However, no matter how large the sofa was, it couldn’t compare to a bed; it wasn’t meant to accommodate two adults. Seeing that Lin Konglu was struggling a bit, Xu Qingqiong pushed against her shoulder and couldn’t help but say, “How about we don’t do it here? Let’s go to the bed.”

Lin Konglu replied, “I’m fine, but it might be a bit hard on you.”

Xu Qingqiong looked at her, puzzled. “…Me?”

Lin Konglu propped one arm beside her waist, a hint of a smile on her face. Her warm breath fell upon Xu Qingqiong’s bare skin, making her shiver. She said in a husky voice, “Sister, bear with it for a bit. Don’t get the sofa dirty.”

…

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