Chapter 8
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Chapter 8: Lights Off
When Song Xian reached the parking garage, Jiang Liuyi was standing beside the car, head lowered, her profile taut with tension. Her whole body radiated a suppressed energy, like she’d just had an argument and hadn’t yet come down from it. Song Xian guessed that something unpleasant had happened after she’d left—perhaps a spat between Jiang Liuyi and her friends.
After all, friends will always take sides, not reason. To them, Yu Bai was a longtime confidante, and she—just a stranger they’d met twice. That, plus the history between Yu Bai and Jiang Liuyi… it wasn’t hard to imagine where their loyalties lay. Song Xian could understand their reaction—it was extreme, yes, but she didn’t mind.
She walked up to Jiang Liuyi and asked, “Dinner’s over?”
Jiang Liuyi turned her head. Song Xian stood barely half a meter away—close enough that she could pull her into her arms with a single step. The lighting in the garage wasn’t bright, casting flickering shadows that danced between them. A soft beam landed on the side of Song Xian’s face, veiling her expression with a calm that felt almost ethereal.
She was utterly composed. Just like at dinner earlier—even when Qian Shen had zeroed in on her, she’d remained perfectly quiet. Zhao Yuebai had remarked: “You really found yourself a gem. She must be crazy about you to endure that.”
Suddenly, Jiang Liuyi felt a pang of guilt.
She turned to Song Xian and said, “There’s no one else here.”
Song Xian frowned. “What?”
Jiang Liuyi said, “There’s no one here, so if you want to yell at someone—go ahead.”
Song Xian: …
She didn’t want to yell at anyone. Honestly, she just thought Jiang Liuyi was being unreasonably dramatic.
But Jiang Liuyi assumed she was holding back because she didn’t want to speak ill of her friends. So she took the initiative. “I know they were out of line today.”
Song Xian realized what she meant and gave a small nod. “It’s fine.”
That response only made Jiang Liuyi feel worse. “You don’t have to bottle it up.”
Song Xian gave her a slightly skeptical look.
Jiang Liuyi added, “You can even yell at me. I’m sorry—I didn’t know it was a welcome dinner for Yu Bai.”
If she had, she wouldn’t have come. And she certainly wouldn’t have brought Song Xian along.
Song Xian nodded lightly. As long as it wasn’t intentional, it didn’t matter. She looked up at Jiang Liuyi and said, “Don’t overthink it. They’re your friends. Let’s go home.”
She rarely comforted others, and her tone wasn’t exactly gentle—but to Jiang Liuyi, it felt like a warm current, flowing straight through her, softening her from the inside out.
Jiang Liuyi stared at Song Xian, unmoving. Zhao Yuebai had been right—Song Xian really did love her, deeply and without reservation. Just now, when Qian Shen had been so openly hostile, she’d held back entirely for her sake. And even now, with no one else around, not a single complaint—simply because those people were her friends.
Something in Jiang Liuyi’s tightly wound expression shifted. As Song Xian moved to unlock the car, she suddenly reached out and pulled her into a firm embrace.
Song Xian froze. She turned her head slightly, and Jiang Liuyi’s breath brushed past her earlobe—soft and tingling.
They stood like that in silence, holding each other. After a few seconds, Jiang Liuyi tilted her head, their eyes meeting—breath to breath, inching closer.
Then, out of nowhere, Song Xian said, “Let’s go home.”
The tender mood shattered in an instant. Jiang Liuyi snapped back to herself. Under the influence of alcohol, she had nearly kissed Song Xian just now.
Song Xian didn’t like overt displays of affection in public. Jiang Liuyi figured it was because she was shy.
Such a shy Song Xian… it was almost adorable.
Jiang Liuyi straightened, brushed the hair away from Song Xian’s forehead, and planted a light kiss there.
Song Xian looked up, eyebrows drawing together, eyes full of confusion.
They were used to intensity—when they touched, it was always heated, always urgent. A sudden, innocent kiss on the forehead like this? It caught her completely off guard.
Was it an apology for what happened at dinner?
Suddenly, Song Xian understood.
Fine. I’ll accept it… begrudgingly.
After getting in the car, Jiang Liuyi leaned back against the seat, gazing out the window as the scenery slipped by. Song Xian drove slowly, steadily—just like her personality. Calm, composed, dependable.
It wasn’t Jiang Liuyi’s first time riding in Song Xian’s car. Not long after their wedding, Jiang Liuyi had returned from a trip and asked her to come pick her up—this very car. She remembered it had been a weekday. Song Xian had taken time off just to meet her.
Her friends often said Song Xian reminded them of Yu Bai, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Yu Bai thrived on attention, always needed coaxing, and could make a fuss over the slightest mood swing. Within their circle, she’d always been treated like a princess.
Song Xian was different. She was quieter, more reserved. She did countless things behind the scenes without ever mentioning them. And above all, she gave you peace of mind.
Jiang Liuyi turned her head, studying Song Xian. The passing streetlights flickered through the windows, casting soft bursts of light across her face. Her profile was sharp, beautifully defined. Without thinking, Jiang Liuyi felt the urge to reach out and touch her cheek.
Too much wine, she thought. Now I’m just imagining things.
A sharp buzz buzz from her phone snapped her out of it. Someone had tagged her in a group chat.
Lin Qiushui: [@Jiang Liuyi, Yiyi, don’t be mad. After you left, we all scolded Xiao Shen.]
Zhao Yuebai: [@Jiang Liuyi, I can vouch—she was crying after we yelled at her.]
Qian Shen: [@Jiang Liuyi, I’m sorry.]
Jiang Liuyi: [@Qian Shen, you don’t owe me an apology. You should be apologizing to my wife.]
The group chat fell instantly silent.
Utter stillness.
Yu Bai clenched her phone, lips pressed into a thin line. Qian Shen, unable to hold it in, suddenly burst out, “What the hell does Jiang Liuyi mean by that?”
Then, a furious roar of disbelief: “She doesn’t actually expect me to apologize to her wife, does she?”
“She must be dreaming!”
Both Qian Shen and Yu Bai had been spoiled since childhood—especially Qian Shen, who’d grown up with money and had been indulged beyond reason.
Lin Qiushui looked over at her. “You really went too far today.”
Qian Shen had always done as she pleased. Back when Lin Qiushui’s company was struggling to get off the ground, it was Qian Shen who’d asked her parents to pull strings—so technically, she held shares and was considered half an owner.
And now Jiang Liuyi dared to speak to her like that?
Qian Shen let out a cold laugh. “Too far? Isn’t she the ungrateful one here? Don’t forget—when she wanted to study music and her parents were dead set against it, who covered for her? It was us, her friends, making up excuses every day. And that summer she got grounded for two months—you all forgot about that?”
Another friend chimed in, “Exactly. She was kicked out of her house back then—if it weren’t for us, she’d never be where she is today.”
Zhao Yuebai couldn’t take it anymore. She shot to her feet. “Stop patting yourselves on the back! Just think about what you did today—can any of you say it out loud without shame? Jiang Liuyi brought her wife, and what did you all do? Mocked her, sneered at her, and then went out of your way to push Yu Bai at her?”
“Sure, Yu Bai’s doing great now. She’s successful, she’s impressive, maybe even more accomplished than her wife. But guess what? Her wife is legal! If Jiang Liuyi ever got back with Yu Bai, I’d be the first to lose all respect for her!”
By the end, her voice had risen several notches, vibrating with fury.
Qian Shen gave her a cold look. “Zhao Yuebai, are you standing up for her wife? Or are you just into her? Acting all high and mighty like some chaste little vixen—don’t think we don’t know your type. You’ve always liked girls like that, haven’t you?”
Zhao Yuebai’s eyes turned red with rage. She stormed up to Qian Shen, ready to grab her by the hair. Qian Shen flinched, startled by her sudden aggression, but before a full-blown brawl could break out, Yu Bai quickly stepped in and held Zhao Yuebai back.
“Enough!” Lin Qiushui snapped.
“Have you all lost your minds?” she added, clearly irritated. “Yuebai isn’t wrong. We were out of line today.”
She turned to Qian Shen. “If you still want to talk to Jiang Liuyi, then go apologize to her wife—properly.”
Qian Shen’s face was taut with anger, her eyes practically spitting fire.
Lin Qiushui met Qian Shen’s glare without backing down. “And as for that company matter from years ago—let’s be honest. After all these years, the revenue Liuyi’s brought in has more than repaid what you did back then. So stop clinging to that old favor like it gives you leverage. You think she’s ungrateful? We all know why she came back to develop her career here—not that others would understand, but we know. She stayed out of gratitude. Over the years, how many companies tried to poach her with sky-high offers? Did she ever waver? No. Because we helped her back then, and she never forgot that.”
She paused, then added, “As for her and Yu Bai…”
Yu Bai sat quietly, eyes rimmed red. Lin Qiushui couldn’t bring herself to scold her too harshly, so she softened her tone. “Yu Bai just got back. Let’s focus on the exhibition for now. As for things with Liuyi… let’s wait and see.”
Wait and see? She’s already married—what exactly is there to wait or see? What kind of change are you hoping for? Isn’t that just a veiled way of saying you’re still hoping for a chance?
Watching them continue to protect Yu Bai, Zhao Yuebai couldn’t take it anymore. She kicked her chair back with a loud scrape. Qian Shen opened her mouth to hurl more insults, but Lin Qiushui held her back. Zhao Yuebai walked past them with a cold, expressionless face.
Behind her, Qian Shen’s shrill voice rang out. “She’s lost her damn mind!”
Outside the hotel, Zhao Yuebai suddenly felt that sticking up for Qian Shen in the group chat had been a complete waste. These friends of hers—they weren’t who they used to be. Time and money had long since corroded whatever sincerity they once had.
All she saw in them now was a group of strangers, their faces twisted into something unrecognizable.
Zhao Yuebai was in a foul mood. Yu Bai’s return—who wasn’t excited at first? Back then, Yu Bai had been their little princess. Even when she messed up, no one had the heart to scold her. Zhao Yuebai admitted it—when Yu Bai had just come back, even she had wondered if maybe they should try to bring her and Jiang Liuyi back together.
But now?
She pulled out her phone, thought for a moment, and sent Jiang Liuyi a message: [Tell your wife I’m sorry.]
After all, she too had entertained foolish thoughts.
Jiang Liuyi frowned at the message. Beside her, Song Xian said, “We’re here.”
Snapping out of it, she slipped her phone away. The alcohol was really hitting her now—she nearly stumbled the moment she stepped out of the car. Song Xian frowned. “Don’t move.”
Jiang Liuyi obediently stood still, waiting by the car door. After locking up, Song Xian walked over and, without a word, slipped an arm around her waist. They were nearly the same height, and standing this close, Jiang Liuyi’s nose brushed against Song Xian’s cheek. A few strands of hair tickled the corner of her eye—it itched faintly.
Song Xian said calmly, “I’ll run out and buy some hangover medicine once we’re home.”
“I’m not that drunk,” Jiang Liuyi replied.
Song Xian didn’t argue.
Once they got home, Song Xian helped Jiang Liuyi out of her shoes, took off her coat and hung it neatly on the rack, then supported her gently into the bedroom. The bedsheets and covers were freshly changed, carrying the faint scent of laundry detergent. After settling Jiang Liuyi onto the bed, Song Xian lay down beside her, breathing lightly. Jiang Liuyi wasn’t heavy, but guiding her all the way inside had still taken some effort.
Jiang Liuyi turned her head and saw Song Xian with her eyes half-closed, as if resting. On a whim, she softly called out, “Song Xian.”
Song Xian opened her eyes and turned, meeting Jiang Liuyi’s slightly intoxicated gaze.
Her eyes were brighter than usual, and her pale cheeks were flushed. With her more defined features, Jiang Liuyi’s face could appear sharp and unapproachable when expressionless—cold, distant. But in moments of emotion, every flicker was unmistakably vivid.
Song Xian watched her lean in without warning, their eyes locked. Jiang Liuyi shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her other arm wrapped around Song Xian’s waist, eyes burning with intensity.
The warmth of her touch—despite the fabric between them—felt searing, as if it could leave a mark.
Half-veiled, like a pipa behind gauze.
There was an impulse to tear through everything.
Seeing the flicker in Song Xian’s gaze, Jiang Liuyi leaned in further. The crystal chandelier above them was still on. Their eyes remained locked as her fingertips pressed lightly against the thin layer of fabric—just enough to slip beneath.
But then her shoulder was caught, held firmly.
She looked up to see Song Xian’s face, and heard her whisper in a low, restrained voice:
“Lights off.”
