Chapter 25.1

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Qiao Ziman’s lips pressed into a straight line as she lowered her gaze, staring at her toes. She seemed calm on the surface, but inside, two little voices were pulling her in different directions.

One said, “You’re all friends, what’s there to be afraid of? You’ve seen it before, even touched it before. You have everything she has.”

The other voice countered, “Wake up! It’s different now. The situation is different. Being drunk feels a bit like taking advantage of someone. Besides, that scene had a hint of desire and ambiguity.”

While Qiao Ziman was struggling to make a decision, Chi Yin gave her a timely nudge. “You haven’t had your strawberry pie yet.”

“Oh,” Qiao Ziman took the opportunity to get off her and turned on the living room light, “You can eat the strawberry pie yourself. I’ll go make you some hangover soup.”

Let’s see if I can sober her up, Qiao Ziman thought to herself. As she walked toward the kitchen, Chi Yin’s voice came from behind her—muffled, with a hint of childishness.

“Feed me.”

Qiao Ziman’s heart softened, and her steps rooted to the ground, unable to move forward.

Chi Yin’s voice softened even more, “Help me…”

Qiao Ziman closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then turned around and walked briskly toward Chi Yin. “From now on, you’re not allowed to drink. Got it?”

Chi Yin leaned back in her chair, her long hair swaying slightly, her eyes hazy with drunkenness. She obediently parted her red lips and replied softly, “Okay.”

Qiao Ziman picked up a piece of strawberry pie and brought it to her mouth. “Open up.”

Chi Yin gently opened her mouth and took a small bite. Watching her slow movements, Qiao Ziman frowned slightly. “Just have a taste. If you don’t like it, that’s fine.”

“It’s delicious.”

Chi Yin leaned in for another bite, and the thick filling burst from the pie’s center, spilling through the gaps in her teeth and staining the corners of her lips. Her already striking lips now looked even more red and inviting.

Qiao Ziman’s throat tightened, feeling a bit uneasy. “I’ll get you a napkin.”

Before she could move, Chi Yin darted out her tongue. The pink tip of her tongue gently licked the strawberry jam from the corner of her mouth and, almost unintentionally, grazed Qiao Ziman’s fingertips.

Qiao Ziman pulled her hand back as if she had been shocked, exclaiming, “What are you doing?”

Chi Yin gazed at her innocently. “Don’t waste it.”

Qiao Ziman: “…”

“Do all rich people pinch pennies like this?”

“Of course. Didn’t I give a passenger a ride on my first day of work? By the way, you still haven’t paid me the fare.”

The “passenger,” Qiao Ziman, was momentarily speechless. Fine, she believed it.

Suddenly, Chi Yin’s gaze shifted to the unfinished strawberry pie, her expression turning a bit melancholic. “You know…”

“Hm?” Qiao Ziman’s attention was successfully diverted by Chi Yin’s words, no longer bothered by her overly intimate and ambiguous actions from earlier.

“My parents rarely smiled as far back as I can remember. Whenever they were together, they were constantly fighting. I gradually learned to be mature and tried to make them happy. But I realized, no matter what I did, they never seemed to notice. So, I learned to become numb, to stay quiet.”

“Honestly, when I was little, I used to envy other kids whose parents would celebrate their birthdays with them. Later, I realized that was something I’d never have in my lifetime, so birthdays and cakes became something bitterly ironic to me.” Chi Yin paused for a moment, her voice softening. “Today, I was really happy.” She looked at Qiao Ziman, her eyes shimmering with tiny specks of light. “Because of you, the word ‘birthday’ has taken on a new meaning for me. The strawberry pie was delicious, the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

So that’s why she couldn’t bear to waste it? Qiao Ziman’s heart was deeply touched. She gently patted Chi Yin’s head and said softly, “You didn’t get to eat the eggs I made this morning. Now, I’ll cook you a bowl of birthday noodles. Can you still eat?”

Chi Yin nodded firmly. “I can.”

Qiao Ziman got up and headed for the kitchen, but halfway there, she stopped in her tracks. She thought about it for a moment—Chi Yin’s earlier words had been heartfelt and coherent, so… does she still need to prepare the hangover soup? Turning around, Qiao Ziman asked, “Are you feeling better?”

Chi Yin, looking fragile, raised her hand to rub her temples. “So dizzy.”

Qiao Ziman: “…” Was the sobriety just an illusion? Fine. “Alright, you stay put and I’ll be done soon.”

Just as the words left her mouth, the next second, Chi Yin was already standing up, leaning on the back of the chair and slowly moving toward Qiao Ziman. “I won’t.”

Qiao Ziman: “…” Why is it that some people, after drinking, insist on doing the exact opposite of what they’re told? Can’t she be more like me? Not only that, but Chi Yin wrapped her arms around Qiao Ziman’s waist from behind, clinging to her like a koala.

Qiao Ziman’s body instantly tensed up. “Get down.”

Chi Yin: “No.”

“You’re making it impossible for me to cook.”

“No.”

“Chi Yin, is that the only word you know how to say?”

“Just no.”

How could she be so clingy after drinking? Qiao Ziman thought it over and came up with a reasonable explanation. Maybe Chi Yin had craved love so much as a child that when she drank and her awareness became fuzzy, she acted out her most genuine emotions. It was… actually pretty cute. Like a little kid.

Qiao Ziman chuckled and decided to let her be. So, as she gathered ingredients, the two stayed pressed together. When she chopped vegetables, they stayed pressed together. As she boiled the noodles, they remained glued to each other.

What would have normally taken half an hour ended up taking twice as long.