Li Mingxi drove the car to Ying Xing’er’s suburban villa and waited inside for Jingchun to come out, amazed that the situation had been resolved so smoothly. However, she didn’t dare lower her guard; no one knew if Long Xun had truly abandoned her revenge, but for now, they were certain to have a period of peace.
Jingchun emerged from the villa, but she completely ignored Mingxi, who had been waiting there for a long time. Instead, she began walking along the asphalt road toward a bus station three miles away. Mingxi hurriedly turned the car around and pulled up to block her path.
“Sis, are you still mad at me?”
Mingxi grabbed Jingchun’s arm, asking softly with a hint of a pleading, placating tone. Jingchun gently brushed Mingxi’s hand away and continued walking. This time, she would not forgive Mingxi easily. In Mingxi’s eyes, was she someone who could only share in joy but not in hardship? Did Mingxi truly view her as nothing more than a burden? Jingchun was deeply hurt and angry—mostly because Mingxi had exploited her trust by drugging her juice to knock her out.
“Sis, please don’t be like this. I know I was wrong. Stop being angry, okay?”
Mingxi knew Jingchun would be upset, but she hadn’t expected this level of fury. Jingchun was the type who rarely lost her temper, but when she did, it was absolute. Mingxi realized getting back into her good graces wouldn’t be easy.
“Sis, if you want to be mad, at least wait until we get home. Worst case, I’ll kneel on a washboard for you—or even a keyboard—as long as you stop being mad.”
Mingxi spoke with zero dignity left. Jingchun, however, continued to ignore her and kept walking. Mingxi caught up again.
“Sis, what do you want from me? Just tell me, okay?”
Her only fear was Jingchun treating her like air. She could handle anything else even the washboard. She admitted she lacked dignity in front of Jingchun, but why do you need pride in front of the one you love? As long as there were boundaries, what was wrong with yielding?
“Take me to the bus station up ahead,” Jingchun signaled.
While Mingxi had been rambling, Jingchun realized the station was indeed quite a walk, so she decided to let Mingxi drive her that far.
“I’ll just drive you all the way ho—”
The word “home” was swallowed back by the look in Jingchun’s eyes. Mingxi quickly opened the passenger door. Once Jingchun was inside, Mingxi circled around, got in, and started the engine. She pulled up at the bus stop.
“Sis, I did it for your own good. You can hit me or yell at me, just please don’t shut me out.”
Mingxi turned off the engine and surreptitiously hit the door locks so Jingchun couldn’t leave. She was determined to have a real talk; she couldn’t stand this cold indifference. Jingchun tried to open the door and, finding it locked, glared at Mingxi. Mingxi waited until the day’s only bus drove past before she finally spoke.
“Sis, what do you really want from me? For years, I told myself not to pressure you. I gave you time and space to figure things out. But all you’ve done is run away. Am I, Li Mingxi, really so beneath you? All these years of devotion—even a heart of stone should have been moved. I didn’t send you away because you’re a burden; I did it because I cannot let anything happen to you. I can’t stand the thought of you getting even slightly hurt, because I love you more than I love myself. You are the person I care about most in this world besides my mothers. Am I not the same to you? Maybe I am ‘the most important,’ but just as a ‘sister,’ not a lover. You always say I’m young. Am I? I’m nineteen. I’m the General Manager of Guangqiang. I know what I’m doing. People call me a genius because I started primary school at three and graduated university at eighteen. But I’m not a genius. I could have been a normal kid, started school at six, and enjoyed a childhood and youth. I don’t regret my choices—I never do—but why do you think I worked so hard? It was so I could be worthy of you! Yet you always keep your distance. Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve cried myself to sleep? You don’t. You only know how to be mad at me. You wanted to go home alone? Fine. You saw the last bus leave. Here are the keys. Go wherever you want.”
With that, Mingxi unbuckled her seatbelt, got out of the car, and began walking back toward Ying Xing’er’s villa. Sitting in the car, Jingchun watched Mingxi’s lonely silhouette. Her heart ached, and tears finally spilled over. She knew Mingxi was suffering, but she felt helpless.
Halfway back, Mingxi ran into Xiao Zetong and Ying Jia’en, who were heading home. She got into the back of Zetong’s car and closed her eyes, fighting back tears. Zetong didn’t ask why she was wandering the road alone; it was obvious she had fought with Jingchun.
“I don’t know what you two are constantly bickering about,” Ying Jia’en said, turning around with some effort. “Why can’t you just live a peaceful life?”
Mingxi opened her eyes and looked out the window. “Am I the one causing trouble, or is she? Aiai-jie, do you know how much I envy you two? We’re both childhood sweethearts, so why is my path so much harder?”
“Mingxi, you know what Jingchun’s biggest hang-up is,” Xiao Zetong said, bringing the car to a stop near Mingxi’s parked vehicle. “If you want her to accept your feelings, you have to try to untie that knot in her heart.”
Mingxi looked at her car and sighed. Why hasn’t she left yet?
“Mingxi, get back to your own car. We aren’t going the same way,” Zetong said, essentially kicking her out. She knew Jingchun was waiting for Mingxi.
“Lele-jie…” Mingxi hesitated.
“Mingxi, get out,” Ying Jia’en added firmly but kindly. “Jingchun won’t leave until you’re back in that car. Do you really feel safe leaving her alone in the middle of nowhere?”
Jia’en’s words hit home. Mingxi bit her lip, got out, and as soon as she closed the door, Zetong sped off. Mingxi hesitated for a moment before finally getting into the driver’s seat. Neither of them said a word. She simply started the engine and drove home.
Back at the house, Mingxi went straight to her study. Jingchun felt a sense of loss but retreated to her own room. For the next few days, Mingxi didn’t initiate a single conversation. She left early and came home late. Finally, Jingchun couldn’t take it anymore.
She sat on the sofa, watching the clock. It was 3:00 AM. Mingxi wasn’t home yet, but Jingchun waited patiently. At nearly 3:30 AM, Mingxi finally opened the door.
“We need to talk,” Jingchun signaled, standing up to block Mingxi’s path.
“I’m tired. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Mingxi had been drinking at a business function and was exhausted. She didn’t want to talk, fearing she would only hear things that would break her heart further.
“It won’t take long,” Jingchun insisted.
Mingxi conceded, tossed her keys on the table, and sat down to wait for whatever Jingchun had to say.
“I’ve thought a lot these past few days,” Jingchun signaled, her hands moving with all the courage she could muster. “I thought a lot while I was at Xing’er’s place, too. Mingxi… I’m sorry for making you wait all these years. Let’s be together, okay?”
Mingxi stared, wondering if the alcohol was making her hallucinate. “What did you say? Say it again.”
Jingchun looked up at her, bit her lip, and took Mingxi’s hand. In the center of Mingxi’s palm, she wrote slowly: Let’s be together. If you still love me.
Mingxi felt as if she had been struck by lightning. Still unable to believe it, she stared blankly at Jingchun. Seeing Mingxi’s stunned expression, Jingchun steeled her heart, leaned forward, and pressed her lips against Mingxi’s.
Mingxi’s mind went completely white. She forgot to respond. That brief, shy kiss exhausted Jingchun’s courage; her face flushed red, and she turned to flee back to her room. But Mingxi finally snapped out of it. She reached out, pulled Jingchun into her arms, and delivered a kiss that was forceful yet tender. Jingchun closed her eyes and responded softly. They didn’t let go until they were both breathless.
“The seal is set,” Mingxi said possessively, her forehead resting against Jingchun’s. “From now on, you are mine.”
Happiness had arrived so suddenly. Mingxi realized that for this moment, every second of the long wait had been worth it.