The birthday party ended quickly. Mo Liang curled up in the corner of the sofa, watching Liu Yun and her boyfriend Fang Qiuzhi cut the cake and drink cross-arm cocktails amid the crowd’s cheering, sweet smiles plastered on their faces.
The more Mo Liang thought about it, the less she understood.
Fang Qiuzhi was average-looking and had no money. Liu Yun wasn’t a great beauty, but she was above average. How did she end up with someone like him?
If this were the old her, seeing this poor lovesick couple showing off in front of her, she would’ve stolen Liu Yun away and walked off holding her hand right in front of Fang Qiuzhi, just to satisfy herself.
She imagined what kind of expression would appear on Fang Qiuzhi’s face.
It would probably start with shock, then disbelief, and finally that pathetic look of wanting to pounce but not daring to. Just running through it in her head was enough to send her into seventh heaven.
“I feel like you’re thinking about something bad.”
Shen Zhiyi gently patted Little Yellow Hair’s shoulder, pulling her out of that wicked daydream in her head.
They had already left the KTV and were walking toward where they’d parked the electric scooter.
“Hmm, I was thinking about why Sister Liu Yun and her boyfriend are so in love.”
Mo Liang looked up, asking a rare question from the heart.
“Hmm? How should I put this.”
Shen Zhiyi paused for a moment, as if organizing her words. The night wind scattered a few strands of her white bangs across her forehead, and she casually brushed them back.
“Love is something that’s hard to explain.”
“Even though you might think Fang Qiuzhi is ordinary, he loves Liu Yun enough. Maybe that’s all it takes.”
Mo Liang lowered her head and said “oh,” neither refuting nor pressing further.
Anyway, all that talk about “love” and “enough” that Shen Zhiyi said—she couldn’t understand a single word of it.
What’s love worth? Can it drop gold coins?
When she was very young, before her father died, her mother already brought different men home every few days.
Those men sat on their broken sofa, smoking cheap cigarettes, grinning lecherously at her mother. And her father?
Her father kept his head down, pretending not to see anything. All he knew was bringing dish after dish to the table and pouring drinks for those men. Back then, she’d peek through the gap in the door and see everything clearly.
Later, Mo Liang’s father finally died. Her mother didn’t even finish the funeral arrangements before packing up and running off with another man, leaving her alone in that crumbling house with nothing but four walls.
So from a young age, she understood one truth.
Honest people like her father were the dumbest fools in the world—getting cheated on and still giving their whole heart, deserving nothing but being walked all over their entire lives.
So she chose not to be that kind of person. She would be the one who made others suffer, never allowing herself a single ounce of grievance.
The two of them walked side by side in silence down the late-night street.
Shen Zhiyi naturally knew that what she’d just said was actually quite hollow.
What does “loving enough is all it takes” even mean?
Her mother did love her father. And what happened? Her father had an affair, her mother was beaten, and even she herself had taken plenty of fists from that man.
She looked down at the little head beside her, feeling like this person had probably gone through something similar to her own experience.
Both of them were lost in their own memories. Neither noticed that in a dark alley not far away, someone who shouldn’t be there was standing.
“Hehe, is that Sister Mo Liang’s new target? How interesting.”
Jiang Qing tilted her head, gazing from afar at the two figures walking away side by side, a sickly-sweet smile hanging on her lips.
In her hand was a small knife, blood still dripping from the blade.
At her feet, several men who looked like street thugs lay scattered in a heap, unable to even let out a groan.
“That guy named Lin Yu, he wanted to find people to kidnap Shen Zhiyi, right?”
“That won’t do. How can that be allowed? That wouldn’t be fun anymore.”
Jiang Qing casually wiped the blood off the blade onto the wall, her tone obedient and earnest.
She tilted her head toward the heavy shadows behind her, as if asking a question, or as if talking to herself.
“Don’t you think so?”
The sound of high heels clicking against the tiles grew closer, and Xu Lingxue stepped unhurriedly out of the shadows.
By this time, Shen Zhiyi and Mo Liang had already returned to the house.
“Ugh, I’m so tired!”
Mo Liang stretched with a big yawn and headed toward her room.
After a whole night of fuss, all she wanted now was to throw herself onto that soft bed and sleep until the world ended.
But before she could take two steps, a slender hand clamped around her wrist and pulled her back to the front of the sofa without any argument.
Mo Liang stood in front of the sofa like a grade schooler, looking blankly at Shen Zhiyi as she sat down slowly, folded her hands on her knees, lifted her head, and met her gaze with calm eyes.
“Now let’s talk about you. First, explain—what’s with the injuries on your body?”
“Huh?”
Mo Liang scratched the back of her head, her gaze starting to wander everywhere.
Why was this person suddenly getting so serious? Hadn’t she been pretending not to see it before? She thought this whole thing was already water under the bridge.
“Haha, I’m so sleepy. I’m going to bed.”
Mo Liang let out a dry laugh and turned to escape toward her room.
But she’d barely taken half a step before her wrist was seized again, her center of gravity thrown off, and she was yanked directly down onto the sofa.
Before she could react, her hands were already pinned above her head. Shen Zhiyi straddled her, pressing her firmly into the soft cushions.
“Sister! What are you doing? Let me go!”
Mo Liang twisted and struggled wildly, but it was about as effective as a kitten hissing. She squirmed for ages without budging an inch—if anything, it looked like she was acting cute.
“Then hurry up and tell me about yourself.”
Shen Zhiyi deliberately lowered her voice a bit, trying hard to sound fierce, but even so, the words came out gentle and completely lacking in intimidation.
She looked down at the little yellow-haired girl she had subdued.
At this point, if she didn’t get some answers, she wouldn’t even know how to wrap this up herself.
“Wuwu… I don’t want to say!”
She turned her head and buried her face in the sofa cushion, shoulders heaving with sobs.
At this very moment, she was pinned to the sofa by a woman, face down, hands locked tight, unable to move at all. This feeling of being subdued with zero ability to resist made Mo Liang feel utterly humiliated.
Wasn’t she a man before? Being pinned to the sofa and unable to move was bad enough, but crying like a wreck in front of someone—this was embarrassing beyond belief.
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, the more unwilling she felt. She, Mo Liang, couldn’t handle that freak Xu Lingxue, and couldn’t deal with that psycho Jiang Qing. But could she really not handle you, Shen Zhiyi?
You’re just a trash nobody. You couldn’t even bring yourself to leave a stray little yellow hair on the street. How tough can you really be?
At this moment, Mo Liang kept her face buried in the sofa cushion, continuing to sob and wail, her voice getting louder and louder, shoulders shaking, crying like the world was ending.
Mo Liang figured that if she cried long enough, this miscellaneous fish big sister would definitely soften and let go. Then wouldn’t everything be fine?
“Huh?”
Shen Zhiyi was a bit stunned watching her suddenly burst into tears.
All the lines she’d prepared were stuck in her throat. She couldn’t get a single word out.
She felt that this was no time to back down or soften her heart, so she made what she thought was the safest decision.
She just watched the other person cry.