After The Cannon Fodder Died, She Became The Female Lead’s White Moonlight (GL) - Chapter 8
She slept until noon the next day. Her body felt slightly better, but she was still dizzy. She didn’t pay it any mind and went downstairs to make lunch.
“Splat—”
Shen Sijin’s hand was weak, and she dropped the bowl directly onto the floor. She slowly blinked her eyes, only belatedly crouching down. The glass shards were sharp. Shen Sijin wasn’t careful, and a shard cut her finger, causing blood to drip onto the floor.
When Che Gulai came downstairs for water, she saw this scene. The slender girl was crouched on the floor, staring blankly at her bleeding finger. Her exposed neck was pale and thin, like a slender, snow-covered branch, giving her a look of frailty.
Che Gulai ignored her, her gaze cold and completely unconcerned about the injury. She only wanted to get her water.
She walked past Shen Sijin and went to the back of the kitchen for water.
Throughout this, Shen Sijin had no reaction, simply staring blankly at her finger, her whole body like a dull, wooden puppet, completely motionless.
Che Gulai felt a flicker of doubt inside but wasn’t in the mood to ask. She was about to go upstairs, but her gaze caught the bright red blood dripping onto the clean white floor. Che Gulai, who had severe mysophobia, couldn’t stand it and stopped walking upstairs.
“What are you doing?” Che Gulai turned and asked, her voice cold. “Are you being stupid?”
Several minutes passed after she spoke before Shen Sijin mumbled a confused “Ah.”
Shen Sijin hadn’t actually heard clearly what Che Gulai said. She hadn’t even registered Che Gulai’s arrival. She was extremely dizzy, her face was hot, and she had no strength in her body. Her ears were constantly buzzing, her reactions were very slow, and her thoughts were like drowning in a chaotic sea, heavy and sluggish.
She couldn’t make out what Che Gulai was saying, thought she might be hungry, and wanted to get up quickly to cook. She tried to stand up, but her whole body was too weak, her fingers were cold, and it felt like her warmth was continuously draining away. All she wanted to do was sleep.
Che Gulai saw that she was taking too long to get up, and the blood from her finger was quickly pooling into a small puddle on the floor, yet the person herself was completely unaware.
Che Gulai really didn’t want to deal with her, secretly wishing she would just bleed out and die. But seeing the floor being stained with blood made her furious. Furthermore, this lunatic, Shen Sijin, was being completely unresponsive, so Che Gulai had no choice but to find a band-aid from the living room.
Shen Sijin’s mind cleared a fraction. Just as she was about to pick up the shards, a hand suddenly grabbed her arm. Slender Shen Sijin was practically lifted like a boneless little rabbit and carried to the living room sofa.
“Put it on yourself.” Che Gulai tossed the band-aids directly onto the table.
Her movement was so rough that Shen Sijin became even dizzier. She sat on the sofa, her head drooping, her eyelids half-closed.
She had absolutely no strength left.
Che Gulai scoffed coldly, seeing her unresponsive like a stunned rabbit.
Shen Sijin’s hand was already covered in blood, listlessly hanging over the sofa, staining the cushion. Che Gulai was exasperated.
She walked over, unwrapped a band-aid, and applied it for her with a rough motion.
In her hazy vision, Shen Sijin saw Che Gulai squatting down, her dark long hair falling around her cheek. Her long, thick, curly lashes were cast low, her skin was fair, and her vibrant, elegant features were right in front of her.
She stared blankly as Che Gulai bandaged her wound. Her fingers were warm, and when they touched Shen Sijin’s cold fingers, for a moment, Shen Sijin felt as if her fingers had been scalded.
“Thank you,” Shen Sijin murmured.
Che Gulai ignored her, casually bandaged her hand, and seeing that the bleeding had stopped, she went to clean up the glass shards.
Her attitude was perfunctory and cold; she wasn’t concerned about her at all, but merely wanted her blood to stop dirtying the floor and the sofa.
But in Shen Sijin’s confused mind, Che Gulai was showing concern for her. It had been such a long, long time since anyone had cared about her.
She used to get hurt often and longed for care, but there were too few people around her. Her mother ignored her injuries, she had no friends, and she couldn’t tell anyone about the wounds that made her cry.
Shen Sijin felt utterly useless. Che Gulai had only helped her bandage a very tiny wound, yet she felt that Che Gulai was the best person ever.
At the very least, she didn’t ignore her injury.
Just a good-for-nothing desperately hoping for a little love.
She thought hazily.
Che Gulai must have left. She heard the sound of her going upstairs. Shen Sijin lay on the sofa, feeling alternately hot and cold, and she drifted off to sleep in her confusion.
She slept until past eight in the evening. Che Gulai came downstairs a few times in between, coldly glanced at Shen Sijin lying on the sofa, and walked past. She called her a few times, but got no response.
Che Gulai found Shen Sijin’s phone in her pocket, but it was turned off.
She wanted to go out, but the front and back doors were almost all double-locked, and she didn’t know where the keys were.
This lunatic Shen Sijin had double-locked all the doors.
What a strange habit.
Her expression was icy, her gaze like a knife as it swept over Shen Sijin. She slowly walked closer, her hand slowly moving to Shen Sijin’s pale, delicate neck, and began to slowly tighten her grip.
Shen Sijin’s expression grew more and more distressed before Che Gulai withdrew her hand.
Forget it, murder is against the law.
Dying like that would be too easy.
She brushed back the stray hair near her ear, didn’t spare a glance for the distraught, curled-up Shen Sijin, and left.
Shen Sijin was woken up by the cold. She sat up shivering, staring blankly at the darkness for a while before her dizzy mind realized it was already evening.
Thinking that she had slept all day and hadn’t made dinner for Che Gulai, and afraid that Che Gulai would be unhappy, she braced herself against the sofa and slowly, sluggishly stood up.
Her breathing was heavy, her body felt like it was filled with lead, and she was very cold. She felt heavy-headed and light-footed.
Maybe I’m sick.
She thought.
I’ll just take some random medicine later.
Shen Sijin slowly walked to Che Gulai’s room. Her eyelids were heavy, and her voice was very low and hoarse. “Che Gulai…”
It took a while for a response to come from the room.
“What is it?”
“Have you eaten?”
“I don’t want to eat. You should leave.” Che Gulai’s voice was cold and devoid of human warmth.
“I’m sorry,” Shen Sijin said before leaving. “I was… feeling a bit unwell today. I’ll cook for you tomorrow.”
Che Gulai didn’t reply.
Shen Sijin pursed her pale lips, walked to her own room, and immediately lay down on her bed. She wanted to find some medicine but didn’t have the strength.
She struggled to lift the blanket and shrank inside, like an insecure little rabbit, obediently curled up under her blanket, motionless.
She was very cold.
The weather was nice today, and the sun was out, a rare occurrence. Che Gulai lay in bed for a long time and decided she wanted to sit in the yard for a bit.
Her foot was a little better, but she still couldn’t walk much.
The yard was quite large, with sycamore trees planted on both sides. Yellow withered leaves covered the ground, and the small yellow dog walked all over them, making a rustling sound.
Che Gulai sat on the long bench, watching the little dog with an indifferent expression.
The sun in the small town wasn’t too intense, just perfect on the skin. Che Gulai was enjoying the rare leisure time. Before, it was endless work, never-ending social obligations, difficult artists under her management, and having to deal with the harassment of a few lunatics. Her nerves were constantly strained, and she couldn’t rest for a moment.
Time for relaxation like this was truly rare. She closed her eyes and quietly enjoyed it.
“Bang—”
Che Gulai opened her eyes and saw a man clumsily climbing over the courtyard wall, only to fall back down.
The top of the wall was fitted with many pieces of broken glass and barbed wire. Yet, the man climbed up as if unafraid of pain.
Che Gulai coldly watched the man, who looked like a fat pig.
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