Chapter 74
Sheng Zhi’s birthday this year happened to fall right next to the Qixi Festival.
The days they spent on the island felt exactly like a honeymoon. By day, they watched the sea and explored the island; by night, they slept in each other’s arms. Her heart felt as if it were submerged in a honey jar—everything was impossibly beautiful.
Yet, the sweeter these days became, the more bitter Sheng Zhi felt whenever she remembered that when she first married Ji Qingfan, they hadn’t even had a wedding night, let alone a honeymoon. She thought about making up for that wedding night before they left the island.
“A wedding night… could Jiao Jiao wear a bridal gown?” After hearing her suggestion, Ji Qingfan looked at her with anticipation, her eyes shimmering with affection. “And wear one of those red veils…”
Sheng Zhi had no intention of refusing. Without a moment’s hesitation, she agreed: “I’ll contact someone then, and have a gown selected and shipped over.”
As her words fell, a smile blossomed in Ji Qingfan’s eyes. She hooked a strand of hair from Sheng Zhi’s cheek, twirling it between her fingers. Her voice was light yet enchantingly soft: “There’s no need to ship one. There is actually one here.”
Hearing this, Sheng Zhi froze for a second before realizing that Ji Qingfan had likely prepared this long ago—or rather, she had harbored this fantasy for a long time. She never intended to say no, and at this moment, she was so star-struck that she would have agreed to anything Ji Qingfan asked.
Why not? As long as it was a fantasy she could fulfill.
This sentiment reached its peak when Sheng Zhi actually saw the gown—an incredibly intricate and exquisite piece of work. The dress was so complex she couldn’t put it on herself; Ji Qingfan had to help her.
The deep crimson bridal veil wasn’t particularly heavy; it was silk-satin, the top layer feeling like gauze but without the usual transparency. The gold threading was dense and delicate, featuring spreading phoenix wings and golden jade pendants in the shape of luan birds hanging from the four corners.
She sat before the mirror. Ji Qingfan held a wooden comb, gently stroking it through her hair before pinning it up with pearl hairpins and floral ornaments.
“Jiao Jiao, you’re so beautiful…” She watched her in the mirror with fascination, her soft arms sliding down from Sheng Zhi’s delicate shoulders to embrace her, the rhythm of her breathing shifting. “Shall I draw a huadian (forehead decoration) for Jiao Jiao?”
Sheng Zhi met her gaze in the mirror and gave a light laugh, her red lips contrasting with her white teeth. “Sure. How do you need me to cooperate?”
“Just like this is fine.” A flush of red rose to Ji Qingfan’s cheeks, looking like the color of excitement.
Ji Qingfan didn’t tell her to close her eyes. But when the slightly damp, slender tip of the brush touched the skin in the center of her forehead, Sheng Zhi closed her eyes as a reflex. The sensation of the delicate brushstrokes became instantly clearer—a soft, tickling itch. It felt as if every stroke was a kiss falling on her heart.
She nearly held her breath. Her eyelashes trembled uncontrollably. Sheng Zhi asked, “Is it done yet?”
The posture wasn’t difficult to maintain, but it was inexplicably agonizing.
“Not yet, Jiao Jiao, wait a little longer.” As Ji Qingfan answered, the brush in her hand moved even more slowly.
In the mirror, Sheng Zhi wore the gold-embroidered crimson gown, her long train more regal than a peony. Ji Qingfan tilted her chin up slightly; with her eyes closed, her thick lashes cast a pretty shadow on her cheeks. Ji Qingfan stared at her with a deep, obsessive gaze.
“…It’s finished.”
As the final stroke was completed, she leaned in even further, kissing her vivid, lip-painted mouth with the lightness of a feather. The lip rouge had a sweet taste and smelled of flowers. They had done far more intimate things, and now it was just a forehead drawing—the kiss didn’t even involve tongues—yet Sheng Zhi’s heart raced fiercely.
“Mhm…” With her face and ears red, she opened her eyes to look at the huadian blooming in the mirror. She raised a finger to touch it but pulled back just before contact. “It’s drawn so beautifully.”
Ji Qingfan’s smile grew even more radiant. She leaned into her ear, whispering soft words as if biting her ear. Hearing what she said, Sheng Zhi put on the red veil, placed her hand in Ji Qingfan’s, and smiled: “Let’s go. Hold me tight.”
The ivory tower was the highest building on the island, surrounded by a vast expanse of vibrant, deeply colored flowers. From the top floor, one could overlook the entire island. Sheng Zhi thought she had seen most of the island over the past few days. But when the red veil was finally lifted and she found herself inside a massive golden cage, she was certain she had never seen this before.
It was magnificent, delicate, and beautiful—the top was vaulted yet tapered, the metal reflecting a brilliant, cold tone.
“Jiao Jiao, how do you feel? You can still choose to terminate this now.” The woman who led her in knelt before her, staring dazed at the vivid, dewy face beneath the veil. Her own face seemed to flush even more.
A very subtle sense of eeriness crept up Sheng Zhi’s spine for a moment, but meeting Ji Qingfan’s gaze, she felt the feeling was nonsensical. Ji Qingfan loved her so much, was so obsessed with her. She was merely fulfilling a long-held fantasy for her.
Moreover, last night Ji Qingfan had placed the lead in her hands, letting her take control, surrendering her whole being to her. Since she could be that open, Sheng Zhi felt she should be too.
Sheng Zhi gave her an incredibly moving smile, her aggressive beauty looking even more ravishing than usual: “It’s okay. You can do whatever you want. I am yours.”
Ji Qingfan stared at her without blinking, excited to the extreme, her breathing a mess. She felt Sheng Zhi might not realize exactly what she was saying.
“Jiao Jiao, do you know what you’re saying…?” Her tone fluctuated as if she were lost in a trance.
Ji Qingfan really lacks security. Seeing her uncertain look, Sheng Zhi felt a fresh wave of heartache and repeated: “I am yours.”
Ji Qingfan couldn’t hold back anymore. She was so excited her whole body went soft. “Kiss me, kiss me… possess me however you want…” She nuzzled against the skirt, her moist tongue darting out urgently. The corners of her eyes were a heart-stopping shade of red.
Her bride. Her wife. Hers alone. Hers alone.
Sheng Zhi hadn’t expected Ji Qingfan to be this excited. It was… overwhelming. She kissed her, sinking into the depths with her. The rich colors of the bridal gown were softer than clouds, rising and falling continuously within the magnificent golden cage.
After returning from the island, the schedule became busy. This year’s Mid-Autumn Festival fell in mid-September. It seemed far off, but it arrived in the blink of an eye. Now, from the headquarters to the branches, every department was working overtime, and trivial matters were piling up.
“…Why are there so many people over there?”
Sheng Zhi was holding Ji Qingfan’s hand. Just as they left the company, she noticed a crowd of employees gathered in a circle. Ji Qingfan hadn’t failed to notice, but she only glanced over after Sheng Zhi spoke. Her gaze was indifferent, devoid of curiosity.
“I don’t know, it shouldn’t be important,” she said, her finger tracing Sheng Zhi’s palm. Only when she looked back at Sheng Zhi did color return to her eyes. “Jiao Jiao, let’s go home. It’s rare that we didn’t have to work late today.”
She tried to pull Sheng Zhi toward the car, but Sheng Zhi insisted: “Let’s go take a look. They look worried; maybe something happened.”
The group looked indeed anxious. Sheng Zhi pulled Ji Qingfan over and took a look. She froze when she saw what was in the center.
It was a puppy. It might have been hit by a car or met some other accident; its hind leg was twisted at an odd angle. It was shivering, whimpering on the ground, its dark eyes looking as if they were brimming with tears. It was tiny—barely the size of a palm—and its fur was matted. It didn’t look like it had anyone to care for it. It was heart-wrenching to watch.
The surrounding whispers were low.
“What happened? What do we do…”
“We can’t just leave it here.”
“It’s a stray, right?”
“So small, so pitiful. But I wonder if it has skin diseases or something contagious?”
At that moment, someone brought a box, likely wanting to put the puppy inside. But seeing the puppy twitching, they didn’t know where to start. Sheng Zhi quickly stopped them. You shouldn’t touch an injured animal recklessly before knowing the extent of the damage; a well-meaning touch could make it worse.
“It’s fine, you all can go,” she said to the employees while contacting a friend who owned several pet hospitals. “I’ve called professionals. I’ll take it to the hospital for a full check-up and treatment.”
Hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Ignoring the dog felt wrong, but helping it felt beyond their means. Everyone could see it was hurt, but no one knew how badly. Check-ups, treatment, medical bills—it was all an expense. And after it was healed? Would they have to take it home? Often, it wasn’t that people didn’t want to help strays, but they were already struggling with their own lives, short on time and energy, let alone taking on another life.
The crowd dispersed. Ji Qingfan looked at Sheng Zhi’s expression, then shifted her gaze to the twitching puppy. Her lips moved for a few seconds as if she wanted to say something, but she held it back.
Sheng Zhi knelt down, her eyes full of genuine worry. “I wonder if it was hit by a car. If so, that driver is terrible for just running away.”
“…Yes,” Ji Qingfan said softly, tilting her head. Her long lashes hid her eyes. She mimicked Sheng Zhi’s expression of concern perfectly, kneeling beside her. “So terrible.”
The puppy was quickly taken to the pet hospital. X-rays, ultrasounds, and CT scans revealed a fractured hind leg requiring surgery. Fortunately, there was no internal organ damage or abdominal bleeding. Between the surgery, subsequent treatment, and medication, the cost came to nearly 16,000 yuan.
The surgery was risky because the puppy was so small. But its will to live was strong; it pulled through and recovered quickly. It was incredibly well-behaved, as if it knew it had been saved. Whether it was surgery or injections, it was perfectly cooperative, never barking or biting. It was so sweet it could melt anyone’s heart.
During this time, whenever Sheng Zhi finished work, she would pull Ji Qingfan to the hospital to visit. After over two weeks of hospitalization, the puppy could finally walk a little, though with a slight limp. It recognized them now; every time they met, it had a sunshiny, healing little smile, its tail wagging like a propeller with pure joy.
“But why does it only cling to me and not you?” Sheng Zhi teased the puppy, her eyes curving. “Little Guy, are you afraid of Qingfan? Don’t be afraid. She’s very gentle; she’s been even more worried about you than I have.”
She picked up the puppy to let Ji Qingfan pet it. But before Ji Qingfan could reach out, the puppy’s tail slowed. It faintly bared its teeth, as if sensing some danger, entering a defensive state. It was a complete lack of “face.”
“It doesn’t seem to like me very much.” Ji Qingfan didn’t raise her hand. She just looked at Sheng Zhi, her smile thin and helpless.
Sheng Zhi sensed it too. The puppy really didn’t take to Ji Qingfan. She sighed and rubbed its head. If it didn’t like her, there was nothing to be done. Perhaps affinity with animals was a mystical thing that couldn’t be forced.
“Qingfan, let’s take it home to raise.” She looked at the pup nuzzling her palm, her heart turning into a complete mush. It was such a good, heart-pitying baby. She had always wanted to raise pets—to be surrounded by fluffy things the moment she got home. But she had never done it, because she knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to handle the day they passed away.
But looking at this tail-wagging puppy, she couldn’t resist her racing heart. She desperately wanted to take it home.
Hearing Sheng Zhi’s words, the slight smile on Ji Qingfan’s lips froze. The care and attention she had faked for the past two weeks froze along with it.
“Take it home to raise?”
She spoke slowly, word by word, like a suddenly jammed machine or a flickering video recording. She tried to control her expression but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Why would we bring that thing into our home?” Ji Qingfan adjusted her breathing, trying to keep her voice from being stiff. She tried to sound natural, but a hint of aggression crept in.
Sheng Zhi continued to pet the dog. “Because I feel sorry for it. I want to take good care of it; the little guy is so pitiful.”
Feel sorry for it.
Take good care of it.
So pitiful.
Every word was heard clearly, transforming into abstract spikes stabbing into her mind. Ji Qingfan clenched her palms tightly, her breathing quickening, her pupils becoming unnaturally hollow.
“Raising a dog is a lot of trouble, Jiao Jiao,” she said, struggling to maintain her now strange and contradictory smile. “It needs to eat, drink, be played with… it’s already so clingy; what if it gets even more clingy later?”
“You’re right,” Sheng Zhi nodded seriously. “This is a real little life. So if we raise it, we have to take on more responsibility, both physically and mentally. We need to spend more time with it…”
The smile on Ji Qingfan’s lips collapsed completely as Sheng Zhi spoke. She stared at the puppy with a blank expression, interrupting her almost frantically: “No. No, we can’t… we can’t bring this thing back to our home. Its injury is mostly healed; why would we bring it home to raise?”
She said it over and over. Sheng Zhi looked up at her blankly, not quite understanding what was happening. Whether before they were together or after, Sheng Zhi had never seen Ji Qingfan act like this.
Something was very wrong. It was an indescribable wrongness, subtle yet bizarre.
She stopped petting the puppy and took Ji Qingfan’s hand with concern, her fingertips touching her palm. “Qingfan, what is it?”
The warm contact from the skin brought Ji Qingfan back to her senses. She met Sheng Zhi’s gaze a beat late. Realizing how she had just lost control, a wave of panic instantly flooded her heart. Even though Sheng Zhi’s gaze held only worry and concern, she was still terrified.
What is wrong with me?
I knew I shouldn’t show it… why couldn’t I control myself just now?
Be normal, quickly, like a normal person…
Mist filled her eyes almost instantly. Ji Qingfan’s expression became incredibly piteous and harmless; all aggression and oddity were forcibly erased.
“Jiao Jiao,” she said, leaning closer to Sheng Zhi until she buried her face in her neck. “I didn’t mean anything else. It’s just… Jiao Jiao already has me. Why do you need to bring another little dog home?”
Her fingertips moved slightly. While speaking in an incredibly piteous tone, she gripped Sheng Zhi’s hand—very tightly.
“It makes me so sad and heart-broken. Did I do something not well enough? Jiao Jiao, tell me, I can do everything better…”
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