Chapter 40 - But I’d only ever lose control like that for you…

Xiao Wanqing rarely lost her composure in front of others, let alone shedding tears before a junior like Lin Xian. Once her emotions had settled, a faint awkwardness crept over her. Thankfully, Lin Xian was sensitive enough to spare her the discomfort. Their eyes met briefly before Lin Xian gave her an easy out by shaking her right hand slightly and murmuring, “Aunt Xiao… my hand hurts…”

The awkwardness vanished in an instant. Xiao Wanqing turned swiftly to retrieve the first-aid kit. “Sit down. Just a second.”

She returned with the kit and carefully disinfected Lin Xian’s wound with alcohol. Initially, she wanted to wrap it properly in gauze, but Lin Xian was stubborn, insisting it wasn’t that serious. In the end, she relented and settled for applying three band-aids.

The three skin-toned plasters covered nearly the entire back of Lin Xian’s hand. The exposed skin that peeked out was tinged with faint purples and blues—like fine porcelain recklessly stained by someone who didn’t know its worth. It was jarring to look at. Xiao Wanqing gently pressed the band-aids down and said with concern, “I just hope it won’t leave a scar…”

Lin Xian moved her fingers. Although her hand was tightly wrapped, her fingers remained agile. “Not bad, Aunt Xiao,” she teased, clearly unimpressed by the severity of the injury. Then, playfully, “If it scars, will you stop liking me?”

Xiao Wanqing let out a soft laugh. “It’s not my place to dislike anything about you.” And besides, that wasn’t even the point.

But Lin Xian insisted, a touch of childish willfulness in her tone. “I don’t care, I just want to know if you’d mind. Your hands are so pretty—if mine end up scarred, they won’t look good anymore. Does that mean people with ugly hands aren’t allowed to be friends with people who have beautiful ones?”

“Nonsense…” Xiao Wanqing scolded her with a smile. Sometimes, she truly wanted to crack open Lin Xian’s little head and see what absurd logic she had stored in there. She gently patted Lin Xian’s head and softly said, “Xianxian, I don’t mind. I just feel guilty.” Her eyes, clear as water, locked onto Lin Xian’s. “No matter what happens, don’t act so recklessly again. You need to take care of your own body.”

Lin Xian glanced up at her and then quickly lowered her gaze, saying nothing. If she had to do it all over again—ten times, a hundred times—she probably still wouldn’t hesitate. She even felt that if that woman had stood before her just now, she would have charged straight at her, fists and all. How could someone like that—who didn’t even cherish her—be lucky enough to possess someone so precious?

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the intact glass table and smiled, diverting the topic, “Good thing the glass didn’t shatter.”

But Xiao Wanqing noticed her deflection and flicked her forehead in protest. “Don’t change the subject.” Her voice grew serious. “Lin Xian, I never realized you had such an impulsive and hot-headed side. It’s good for young people to have a sense of justice, but you can’t let it control you. That’s how you end up getting hurt.” Now that the moment had passed and she was calm again, Xiao Wanqing felt a flicker of fear. She had always thought Lin Xian was sweet and warm—hadn’t expected there to be a volcano sleeping inside her.

“But I’d only ever lose control like that for you…” Lin Xian muttered under her breath.

Xiao Wanqing didn’t quite catch what she said. She flicked her forehead again and teased, “What are you mumbling? Are you secretly complaining that this old lady nags too much?”

Lin Xian waved her hands in a rush. “No, not at all.” She sighed, then nodded solemnly. “I know. I won’t be that reckless again. After all, I’m a grown-up now.” She straightened up abruptly, eyes sparkling as she reached out her hand towards Xiao Wanqing and declared with mock formality, “Let’s start fresh. Hello, Xiao Wanqing, I’m Lin Xian. Eighteen years old. First-year finance major at Jingnan University. Let’s be friends.”

Xiao Wanqing was still caught up in the unexpected glimpse of another side to Lin Xian. Hearing her words, she was momentarily stunned.

This was only the second time Lin Xian had called her by name.

But unlike the first—where her voice had been lively and coquettish—this time, there was a steadiness and sincerity that made Xiao Wanqing pause.

She looked at the bright, smiling face before her and was suddenly struck by how time could move both so slowly, and so quickly. Slowly, as in—it felt like just yesterday that Lin Xian, barely reaching her waist, had peeked shyly from behind Zhou Qin, calling her “auntie” in a tiny voice. And quickly—because now, in what felt like the blink of an eye, that little girl had grown up and was sitting across from her, engaging her as an equal.

Was this how girls grew up? Quietly. Almost imperceptibly. You only realized it after the fact.

Xiao Wanqing examined Lin Xian again, more carefully this time. In just a few months, the baby fat on her cheeks had faded, replaced by the fine, elegant lines of a young woman. The innocence in her eyes was still there, just like when they first met—but now, there was something steadier beneath it. More resolute.

In her mind’s eye, Xiao Wanqing could see the little girl from back then merging with the woman in front of her, before slowly separating into someone entirely new.

She wasn’t just Zhou Qin’s daughter. Not just a junior. Not just a niece.

She was her own person now. A grown woman. Someone—though much younger—she could call a friend.

Xiao Wanqing’s gaze softened. The corners of her lips lifted into a warm smile as she reached out and gently shook Lin Xian’s hand. “Hello, I’m Xiao Wanqing. It’s lovely to meet you.”

The Shi family mansion wasn’t far from Xiao Wanqing’s home, but because they had detoured to drop off Chen Zhi and Tang Mo, it was nearly midnight by the time Xia Zhijin’s car finally rolled through the gates.

Shi Man’s mother, Shi Jinglan, wasn’t home. As usual, the house was silent.

No—truthfully, even when she was home, it was still always silent.

This massive, opulent villa—meant to be dazzling and golden—looked more like a haunted mansion in the dead of night, dim and lifeless, wrapped in an eerie silence.

“Still think Aunt Xiao’s house is better… huh?” Shi Man slurred as she stood crookedly at the door, staring at the darkened house before muttering softly.

Xia Zhijin’s gaze dimmed slightly, but she said nothing. She silently opened the door, stepped inside, and flicked on the lights in the foyer. Then, she opened the door wide again and stepped out to help Shi Man in.

Shi Man had always been afraid of the dark. She knew that.

Whether Shi Man was really drunk or not, she wasn’t sure.

Soft and boneless, Shi Man leaned against Xia Zhijin. Her eyes were half closed as she inhaled the light, comforting scent on Xia Zhijin’s skin, feeling safe, step by step, as they slowly made their way up to the second-floor bedroom.

“Actually, just the two of us… is kind of nice…” Shi Man suddenly murmured, nuzzling into the crook of Xia Zhijin’s neck.

Xia Zhijin’s expression remained unreadable. Holding Shi Man tightly, she said nothing.

As soon as they entered the room, and reached the bedside, Xia Zhijin instantly let go and pulled herself away from Shi Man's body. Shi Man, following the momentum, fell back onto the soft bed.

Her dark hair spread across the silver-gray sheets, and her delicate, enchanting face was tinged with a flush of red. Her brows and eyes were tender, as if holding a spring of affection. Her clothes were disheveled, painting the perfect picture of a beauty in wine—a sight that would make anyone look twice.

Xia Zhijin, however, barely spared her a glance before turning around. “Goodnight,” she said, and made to leave without a second’s hesitation.

Shi Man’s eyes, previously hazy, suddenly darkened. A storm seemed to be gathering in her gaze. She abruptly sat up, reached out, and grabbed Xia Zhijin’s wrist, yanking her forcefully back.

Caught off guard, Xia Zhijin turned instinctively, only to be pulled off balance and fall forward.

Shi Man watched Xia Zhijin’s cool, familiar face grow closer and closer—and with a soft thud, they both landed on the bed. Xia Zhijin’s head slammed into Shi Man’s chest, making her grunt in pain.

Hearing the sound, Xia Zhijin panicked and tried to get up to check on her, but Shi Man’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist, fingers interlaced, holding her in place, refusing to let her move.

Xia Zhijin braced herself against the bedding on either side of Shi Man’s face, lifting her body just barely. Her gaze landed on the pillow beside Shi Man’s cheek. Her mind was a mess of chaos, but her face betrayed nothing. Her voice was low, almost coaxing. “Let go of me. You’re drunk. I’ll make you some honey water to sober up.”

Shi Man gazed at the perfect curve of her jaw and tightened her grip around her waist, a low laugh escaping her lips. “You still don’t know if I’m drunk or not?” Her thumb gently traced the line of Xia Zhijin’s waist, voice soft and flirtatious. “Zhijin, don’t you want to know who the girl I like is?”

Xia Zhijin froze, her entire body stiff. Her face felt like it was burning. Her hands, braced against the mattress, curled ever so slightly into fists. She forced her gaze away, but couldn’t help sneaking a glance at Shi Man—and her eyes caught on a photo frame on the bedside table.

Inside was a picture of the three of them: Shi Man, herself, and Shi Jinglan.

Like a bucket of ice water poured straight over her head, the chill seeped through every bone. Xia Zhijin suddenly sobered. The panic in her chest began to fade, replaced by a rising cold.

“I don’t want to know,” she said. Her voice must’ve been icy—frostbitten, even. Because, deep down, what she feared most… was seeing her hurt.

But Shi Man wasn’t disheartened. Still smiling, she refused to let her escape. Her voice was gentle, persistent. “But I want to tell you.” She raised herself up, leaning in close to Xia Zhijin’s frozen cheek, whispering each word by her ear, soft yet cruel. “Xia Zhijin, I like you. You’ve known that for a long time… haven’t you?”

Her hands left Xia Zhijin’s waist, sliding up to the sharp, almost bony curve of her back. She tilted her head, and a kiss was about to fall on Xia Zhijin’s cool, distant cheek.

But the next second, a strong force pushed her away. The kiss missed, and Shi Man was thrown back onto the bed.

Xia Zhijin stood tall, beautiful and expressionless. She looked at her like she was a stranger. “You’re drunk. I’ll pretend I never heard any of that.”

Shi Man stared at her quietly, vision blurring. One hand still clutched Xia Zhijin’s wrist, while the other slowly rose to cover her eyes. The bedsheet beneath began to soak with tears.

Her voice trembled as she asked one last time: “I know what you’re thinking. Xia Zhijin, don’t think about my mom, or about favors, or debts. Just think about yourself. Can you honestly say… you don’t like me? Not even a little?”

Xia Zhijin stared deeply at Shi Man’s tear-covered face, her heart drowning in sorrow. Her eyes shimmered with reluctance, grief, even despair. Her jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might break. And still, with determined coldness, she pried Shi Man’s fingers off her wrist—bit by bit—until she finally pulled away, turned, and walked out without looking back. “Sleep. None of this matters.”

Shi Man’s hand fell back down, empty, limp at the edge of the bed. Her tears flowed even harder now…

What a fool…

Such a fool…

Shi Jinglan wasn't truly someone who bestowed kindness. So why did she end up with someone as grateful as you?