The faint flicker of hope in her chest was instantly crushed. Shang Li stared blankly at her, her expression stiff, cheeks burning with humiliation. It felt as if her entire body had been injected with a chill her hands and feet turned icy cold.
Fire and ice, warring within.
It seemed like a long time before she finally spoke, her voice laced with a cold, barely suppressed anger she couldn’t hide. “Oh, I never said I wanted you to give me anything.”
Meng Yuan frowned slightly, studying her face intently as if trying to decipher her expression. The next moment, she struggled to her feet, swaying unsteadily as she headed toward the second floor.
Shang Li stood rooted to the spot, her face expressionless as she watched Meng Yuan’s unsteady figure. Her heart ached with a dull, persistent pain, pushing aside any trace of concern. The thought of breaking up grew stronger and more insistent. “Meng Yuan, I have something to say.”
“Ah!”
A pained gasp escaped Meng Yuan’s lips as her knee collided with the edge of the coffee table. She froze in place, unmoving for a long moment.
Despite herself, worry surged in Shang Li. The words she had meant to say were momentarily forgotten, and her body moved on instinct, carrying her to Meng Yuan’s side.
Once they were in the bedroom, Shang Li laid her down on the bed. The suffocating frustration returned, clogging her chest. Suppressing the moisture welling in her eyes, she spoke again, her voice strained and hesitant. “Meng Yuan, I have something to tell you. I think, we should break.”
“Here, this is for you.”
A small, exquisitely crafted square box suddenly appeared in her blurred vision. Before she could make out the details, the box slowly opened before her.
Inside were a bracelet and a pair of earrings.
The high-quality sapphires were deep and brilliant, encircled by a halo of tiny diamonds like stars scattered across a vast universe. Between them, diamond-encrusted iris patterns adorned the design, a one-of-a-kind piece.
The earrings, too, were crafted from sapphires, accented with delicate diamond inlays, clear and pristine.
Shang Li’s mind flashed with realization. The small details she had overlooked earlier now flooded her thoughts, magnified a hundredfold.
No wonder Meng Yuan had headed straight for the bed upon entering the room, then fumbled around on the pillow searching for something.
A warm touch brought her back to the present. Meng Yuan had taken her hand and was trying to fasten the bracelet. But still drunk, her movements were unsteady, and she struggled several times to clasp it.
Her vision still blurry, Meng Yuan bent her head lower, her delicate nose almost brushing against the back of Shang Li’s hand. Her warm, moist breath ghosted over Shang Li’s skin with every exhale.
Scorching and damp.
Shang Li’s body tensed instantly. She didn’t dare move, her gaze fixed on the top of Meng Yuan’s head as she asked, almost rhetorically, “Meng Yuan, why are you giving this to me?”
“You can wear it after the performance ends.”
She meant after the theatrical performance.
“Then why give it to me today?” Shang Li pressed, relentless.
Unbeknownst to her, the bracelet had already been fastened. Meng Yuan, hearing the question, lifted her head sluggishly, her eyes clouded with confusion like a newborn bird. “Isn’t today, your birthday?”
“…Yes.” Shang Li’s heart churned with conflicting emotions, too complex to put into words.
Why did Meng Yuan act so indifferent on ordinary days, as if she had completely forgotten her birthday?
Yet, behind the scenes, she had custom-made a birthday gift for her, only to hide it under the pillow instead of giving it to her outright.
She couldn’t understand Meng Yuan. Still haunted by what had happened earlier, she asked, “Then who were you planning to give that pearl necklace to?”
“For Auntie?” Meng Yuan’s hand still held onto hers, not letting go, swaying it back and forth as if admiring whether the gift she was giving was appropriate.
Shang Li breathed a sigh of relief but then suddenly grew annoyed. Her hand, following its owner’s will, pulled away from Meng Yuan’s grasp. “Then why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“I…” Meng Yuan lifted her eyelids and tilted her head. “Didn’t I say it?”
“You!” Shang Li’s fist tightened instantly, but as she looked at that bewildered, innocent, and excessively beautiful face before her, she found herself speechless.
Meng Yuan stared at her for a few seconds before turning to retrieve the earrings, seemingly still intent on putting them on for her.
Seeing her hand trembling as if she had Parkinson’s, Shang Li quickly shook her head and politely declined, snatching the earrings and placing them back in the box, setting it aside to cut off any further ideas.
A dissatisfied grunt escaped Meng Yuan’s lips, her face full of resentment and indignation. Her stubbornness flared up as she staggered to her feet, reaching out for the box, nearly tripping and falling flat on her face.
Shang Li struggled to hold her steady, coaxing her softly, ” I’ll wear them for you tomorrow. Alright, alright, I’ll wear them for you.”
Following the sound, Meng Yuan’s gaze shifted from the box to Shang Li’s face, then fixed there. A mist gradually rose in her eyes, hazy and dreamy, like the thick fog of evening, enveloping the danger and temptation of the silent night, bewitching the mind.
Her dark pupils shimmered faintly, like a dazzling galaxy spinning in motion, capable of absorbing everything. Shang Li nearly drowned in that vortex.
She wanted to look away, but everywhere her eyes fell, she saw Meng Yuan’s vivid and delicate features, vividly conveying every emotion she felt.
For instance, the desire to kiss her.
The moment the thought surfaced, the sensation of something soft and springy, like jelly, pressed down, carrying with it freshly emitted warmth.
The sweet taste of fruit wine spread in her mouth, stimulating her taste buds and exciting every nerve to tremble.
Her consciousness was completely seized, and she couldn’t even remember how they ended up on the bed.
The atmosphere spiraled out of control, with scorching breaths and fervent kisses landing everywhere, before finally seeking out her lips again.
Shang Li, pinned down and unable to move much, asked uncertainly, “Meng Yuan, are you really drunk?”
The person on top of her mumbled something, but it was unclear.
“Wait.” Shang Li turned her head to avoid the kiss. “Why didn’t you come at noon?”
Though she already knew the gist of what had happened at noon, Shang Li still held a slight grudge and wouldn’t feel at ease until she heard Meng Yuan say it herself.
The air grew still for a few seconds. The person who had been gentle and harmless just moments ago suddenly transformed, her aura turning fierce as if recalling some unpleasant memories. A stream of angry curses spilled from her lips, vicious and resentful, as if she wished she could immediately find the culprit and fight them.
Shang Li quickly pulled her back, soothing her by patting her back and asking softly, “Why didn’t you explain over the phone back then?”
“Annoying.”
“Oh!” Shang Li sneered, her grip tightening abruptly. “You’re the only one who’s annoyed? I waited for you for so long wasn’t I annoyed? And my mom was there too. What was I supposed to do?”
Meng Yuan pouted, about to kiss her, but the next moment, she let out a pained groan. The alcohol had blurred her senses slightly, loosening her control over her words and allowing her to express everything freely. “Why are you blaming me? It wasn’t on purpose. It was that bastard who brought the paparazzi. They were like a swarm of flies, impossible to get rid of.”
Like a wronged woman suffering an immense injustice, unable to seek justice and forced to endure public condemnation, she was filled with indignation. Even her exhaled breaths carried a rebellious edge.
“No matter what, you should have told me. How could you casually say you couldn’t make it without an explanation? What was I supposed to think? What would my mom think?” Shang Li’s anger hadn’t subsided. She pushed away the head that kept nuzzling against her chest and asked again, “Also, why didn’t you reply to all the messages I sent you earlier?”
“My phone died and shut off.”
“…Oh.” Shang Li paused for a moment, then laughed bitterly in her fury. “If I hadn’t asked, were you planning to say nothing at all? Just leave everything for me to guess? I’m not the worm in your stomach! Do you even know? Today, I was actually going to.”
A sudden surge of bitterness rushed to her nose. Her voice trembled, gradually taking on a tearful tone as she choked up, unable to finish her sentence.
Soon, waves of heartache washed over her. Shang Li gritted her teeth, but tears of grievance and sorrow still fought their way out of her eyes.
At that moment, Meng Yuan leaned in and kissed her, gathering the salty tears with her soft, smooth tongue before pressing her lips to Shang Li’s trembling eyelids.
The scent of wine lingered in the air, and Shang Li felt as if she had taken a sip herself, growing slightly intoxicated.
The entire bedroom sank into a haze of passion, their skin tingling with sensation.
As her thoughts grew increasingly lost and muddled, something suddenly occurred to her. Shang Li jolted awake, her mind clearing slightly, and asked, “Wait, Meng Yuan, who am I?”