Chapter 19: All Her Thoughts Were Solely About Her
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
It is not a good thing to be naturally soft-hearted towards women.
Just like now, Wen Ruoxian looked at Song Qingluo's tearful face, and there was only the thought of comforting her, as she readily agreed: "Okay."
Only then did she remember the two security guards behind her.
"Uncle, it's okay now. Thank you." She smiled politely at them.
The two waved their hands and entered the elevator.
The corridor became quiet, and the motion-sensing lights went off. Wen Ruoxian stamped her foot, and the lights came back on. She freed up her hand and lightly patted Song Qingluo's back and coaxed: "Let's go in and pack your things first, okay?"
"Mm."
Song Qingluo buried her face in Wen Ruoxian's hair, secretly smiling in a place unseen.
Her hand holding onto the waist refused to loosen.
Wen Ruoxian didn't forcefully break free; she just held her like that, awkwardly entering the door in a strange posture. She wanted to put down the iron rod, but she was unable to bend, stiff as a hostage.
"Sit down, tell me what happened." She gently persuaded.
Song Qingluo was reluctant to let go, but her reason reminded her not to expose her thoughts, as the plan had not yet succeeded.
She slowly withdrew from Wen Ruoxian's arms. Just as she was about to speak, she caught a glimpse of the iron rod in Wen Ruoxian's hand and was dumbfounded: "What are you doing with this?"
"I was afraid you would be in danger if that person had evil intentions..." Wen Ruoxian relaxed but tightened her fingers holding the iron rod, and her face became solemn.
In the seconds the elevator arrived, many possibilities ran through her mind.
Who could it be? Did he accidentally go the wrong way? Or has he been watching Song Qingluo for a long time? How should she handle a conflict if it arises? What are her chances of success? The only thought left was not to let Song Qingluo get hurt.
It was only after she calmed down that she realized she was impulsive.
The consequences, costs, troubles—none were considered.
Harming someone, the trouble would fall on her, being hurt, the trouble would still be for herself, all for someone she had known for not even two months... a friend.
Why did she even bother?
She had seldom been impulsive and disliked people in such a state.
She was accustomed to restraining herself, if she didn't find a valid reason for today's actions, she feared drowning in self-questioning.
“Fortunately, you're okay."
Wen Ruoxian placed the iron rod on the coffee table and sat down sideways.
Song Qingluo kept her head down, silent for a while, then slowly lifted her gaze to Wen Ruoxian's face, containing a hint of complexity, yet also feeling somewhat guilty.
It was her who called this person here. No, deceived her here.
Even though she knew there was no danger, witnessing Wen Ruoxian's reaction at this moment still made her feel scared afterward. If there had really been a bad person outside, she would have immediately called the police instead of letting Wen Ruoxian take such a risk.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
These days, she sometimes felt self-reproach for lying, but at other times, she enjoyed the thrill, and basks in it, becoming increasingly reckless under Wen Ruoxian's indulgence.
Lies were like snowballs rolling downhill.
There would always come the day of an avalanche.
"What's wrong?" Wen Ruoxian saw her in a daze and thought she was still recovering from fright. Her heart softened again, and she stood up and reached out to her, "If you want, you can hug for a little longer."
Song Qingluo couldn't resist the temptation, but her guilt restrained her.
She shook her head, "I'll show you the footage from the surveillance." Then, with difficulty, she averted her gaze, sat down, and scrolled through her phone.
Wen Ruoxian withdrew her outstretched hand and sat beside her. Due to looking at the phone, she had to lean closer to Song Qingluo, their pure black and grayish-white hair intertwining.
The surveillance screen indeed showed a man.
In the sudden close-up, his behavior seemed suspicious, as if peering at something. But through this, it was clear that there was a faint logo of a delivery platform on his clothes, and he held a bag.
"Seems like he was a delivery rider." Wen Ruoxian analyzed calmly.
"When he appeared in the camera's range, he stood in place, looking around, as if searching for something. Then he approached your door, and immediately stepped back, probably checking or confirming something…Mm, was there any other movement later?"
Making up lies already made Song Qingluo feel guilty. She dared not say much, but seeing Wen Ruoxian's sincere concern, she was torn and could only vaguely respond, "When he approached, I was especially scared, my mind went blank, I just thought of calling you, didn't pay attention to anything else..."
After speaking, she ran her fingers through her hair, pretending to recall, "It seems like there was a sound of a door closing when you were on your way here."
Wen Ruoxian was immersed in her analysis, not noticing Song Qingluo's subtle movements. She nodded while speaking, "I guess, perhaps another resident on this floor ordered food delivery. The rider might have had trouble finding the door momentarily because some people don't provide detailed addresses, precise to the door number..."
Her analysis was logical and reasonable.
Song Qingluo had reasons to believe that if there were any loopholes in any aspect, Wen Ruoxian could effortlessly spot them and delve into endless theoretical discussions.
When logic falls short, emotions take over.
She couldn't let Wen Ruoxian continue analyzing further.
"But I've heard that some people pretend to deliver food to trick others into opening the door, targeting solitary girls... I was just too scared, I've never encountered something like this before in my life..." Song Qingluo choked up, burying her head into Wen Ruoxian's embrace, fearing she might change her mind.
The sorrow of six years of searching welled up in her mind, making her eyes genuinely reddened, shedding a few tears.
Despite feeling uncomfortable, Wen Ruoxian still held her, disregarding all the analysis and speculation, comforting her by patting her back, "It's all right now, don't be afraid, I'm here with you."
Song Qingluo whimpered softly, "Fortunately you're here."
She tilted her head, her mischievousness apparent, and her warm breath lightly brushed against Wen Ruoxian's neck, now carrying a fragrance and warmth.
Wen Ruoxian felt a sudden heat and trembled involuntarily, her tone became hurried and flustered, "You should pack things up first."
She gently pushed her away.
Pretending not to notice, Song Qingluo's lowered eyelashes concealed her joy. She softly replied, "Okay."
There weren't many belongings in this room. She pushed the suitcase around both bedrooms and the bathroom, pretentiously picking up some clothes, bottles, and jars. In reality, if Wen Ruoxian observed calmly, she would have noticed there were no traces of someone living in this place.
However...
Wen Ruoxian lowered her head slightly, feeling a burning sensation on her face. She didn't need a mirror to know it was terribly red.
Her body always seemed to disobey her brain.
Whenever she got closer to a woman, various reactions would arise, making her feel embarrassed.
She might have been a nun in her previous life.
Unable to sit still, while Song Qingluo was picking up things in the bathroom, she grabbed the iron rod and stood up, "Take your time packing; I'll wait for you outside."
Darkness was the best camouflage.
After the motion-sensing lights went off, Wen Ruoxian stood quietly in the dark. The iron rod felt icy in her hand. She alternated between holding it and pressing it against her face, finally feeling a bit relieved.
"Let's go." Song Qingluo came out pushing the suitcase, closing the door behind her.
Wen Ruoxian took her suitcase and walked silently ahead.
"?"
In an ordinary residential area, a decade-old building, the corridors and elevators were old, and the lights were dim, unable to illuminate everything completely.
Such as Wen Ruoxian's face.
Song Qingluo frequently glanced at her, but her view was obstructed by her hair. She felt the hair was obstructive, and her mind began to wander—some random thoughts of waking up one morning to find she had been lying on Wen Ruoxian's hair.
As she entertained these thoughts, she couldn't help but chuckle.
As they reached the entrance door, Wen Ruoxian was drawn to this hidden joyous laughter. She couldn't resist turning her head. The streetlights were much brighter than the corridor lights, vividly highlighting the blush on her face.
Their eyes met once again.
"Why are you blushing again?" Song Qingluo was initially surprised, but then her expression turned mischievous.
Wen Ruoxian was taken aback and quickly turned away, feigning indifference, "I was a bit nervous when I arrived, and the room felt a bit stuffy. It's fine, I'll be okay in a while."
"Really?" Song Qingluo looped her arm through Wen Ruoxian's, showing concern and affection as she leaned in closer.
"However, I've noticed you blush easily, especially when I touch you. Could it be... related to me?" Song Qingluo raised her voice.
Wen Ruoxian: "..."
Her face, which had just cooled down, began to warm up again.
The community gate was ahead, and she saw her car in the distance. She quickened her pace and casually replied, "No. It's my own issue."
"Oh..." Song Qingluo raised her volume.
Yes.
An old-fashioned’s issue.
After all, she isn't a very straight woman.
Stepping into Wen Ruoxian's home again, Song Qingluo was already familiar with the place. She voluntarily went to the guest room, organizing her things, and grabbing a new bathrobe and underwear, not treating herself as an outsider at all.
Her toiletries from the last visit were still in the master bathroom.
Taking a delightful bath and pampering her skin, she planned to continue teasing the old-fashioned.
"Wen—"
There was no one in the living room.
Suppressing the unspoken name, Song Qingluo tiptoed toward the study. The door was open, light streaming out. She peeked inside quietly and indeed—
Wen Ruoxian stood motionless in front of the window, her posture stiff and upright.
But there was also a hint of loneliness and desolation.
It was as if she was sealed within a massive, transparent glass curtain. She appeared close but touching her meant encountering a cold, solid barrier. It was hard to believe who could truly enter her heart.
"Wen Ruoxian..." Song Qingluo called out softly, standing tactfully at the doorway without entering.
"Do you still have work to do?"
Wen Ruoxian slowly turned around, meeting her gaze briefly, a fleeting hint of melancholy in her eyes.
"No."
Her tone sounded somewhat cold.
"Can I come in then?"
"Mm."
Song Qingluo's delight was evident as she hurried over, looping her arm around Wen Ruoxian's, "Why are you standing here daydreaming? Are you in a bad mood?”
Most likely because of the blushing incident.
Old-fashioned, you can't hide it anymore, huh? If you like women, just say it outright.
Let's see how long you can hold out.
"I'm thinking about work." Wen Ruoxian casually fabricated a reason, but her initially cold expression softened, unable to maintain it in front of Song Qingluo.
"You still haven't told me why you're unhappy today."
Song Qingluo's smile froze for a moment, and her previously forgotten emotions surged back. She refused to admit defeat: "I'm not unhappy. My mood is fine, I even sang with CEO Cheng."
"I don't believe it."
"Who asked you to?"
"If it's something inconvenient to talk about..."
"Are you really concerned about me?"
Wen Ruoxian hesitated for a moment and nodded, "Mm."
"Being the boss and caring about the secretary's personal emotions, isn't that inappropriate?" Song Qingluo raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a suggestive glance.
The deliberately maintained composure quickly shattered. Wen Ruoxian's complexion changed slightly as she patiently explained, "You mentioned that we are friends in private, caring about a friend's emotions is normal. Besides, it's off-work hours now. I'm not your boss, and you're not my secretary."
This made the old-fashioned... even used her usual phrases.
Song Qingluo couldn't contain herself and burst into laughter, "Hahaha."
"?"
"Wen Ruoxian, you're really cute."
"..."
This phrase was originally used to describe the spoiled Young Miss.
"Do you really want to know why I'm not happy?"
"Mm."
"How much do you want to know?"
"I really want to."
"How much is 'really want'?"
Watching the mischievous look in the spoiled Young Miss’ eyes, Wen Ruoxian realized she was being teased. Suddenly, she had an urge to twist her ear but realized she probably couldn't bring herself to do it.
So she can only helplessly coax, "What answer do you want to hear? I can tell you directly."
"I want to hear you call me 'Qingluo'." Song Qingluo made her request confidently.
"..."
Seeing Wen Ruoxian hesitate, she turned and walked away, "Never mind goodnight."
"Qingluo!"
Wen Ruoxian grabbed her sleeve. "I've called you, now can you tell me?"
The name she blurted out in desperation sounded remarkably natural.
Even…
A little intimate.
Like quarreling lovers in TV dramas, one angrily leaves, while the other desperately tries to hold on.
Song Qingluo's lips curved upwards, feeling sweet inside, but this sweetness lasted only a few seconds before a bitter taste swept it away—
If she cared so much whether or not she was upset, then why could she talk to everyone except her at the dinner table? Late apologies are as worthless as weeds; if there isn't a decent reason, she'll remember this incident forever.
"Fine," Song Qingluo turned back, lifting her chin, "Hug me, and I'll tell you."
Wen Ruoxian dared not hesitate any longer and reached out to embrace her.
The pores, just washed, emitted warm and moist air, releasing a faint scent of bath gel, surrounding her nose, rich with the fragrance of a girl.
Her heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and then thoughts of Cheng Suran surfaced—
Ranran liked lightly scented shower gel and body lotion but didn't fancy the smell of milk, never revealing the reason.
It's still an unresolved mystery.
"In fact, it's because..." Song Qingluo greedily hugged her waist, resting her chin on her shoulder, lazily leaning against her ear.
"At the dinner table today, you talked to everyone except me, and I felt upset because you ignored me. You need to give me a reasonable explanation; otherwise, I'll hold a grudge, forever."
Wen Ruoxian's thoughts were pulled back. After hearing her out, she was both surprised and amused.
Surprised because her efforts to conceal were discovered, thinking she left no traces; amused because of Miss Song's childishness, reasons for being upset, were so simple, so pure.
She jokingly teased back with a smile, "It turns out Song Qingluo is a kid."
"Do you not like me in this way?" Song Qingluo straightened up, somewhat nervously observing her, afraid of missing any subtle expressions.
"I like it," Wen Ruoxian grinned, "Very cute."
"Don't make fun of me."
"Okay, I won't laugh."
She restrained her lips but couldn't contain the joy in her eyes.
Feeling her dignity slightly injured, Song Qingluo's mouth retorted, "It's also because I didn't want to talk with those people—archaic, old-fashioned, there's nothing to talk about with them, and the topics you all discuss are boring."
"It's not that you didn't want to talk, but you couldn't get a word in, right?" Wen Ruoxian gently exposed her.
"Wen Ruoxian!" Song Qingluo, annoyed, felt an itching urge, "You're so annoying! Don't expose me, okay? You're clueless about any charm, old-fashioned, prude..."
"I didn't expect to have so many nicknames."
"Do you want a few more?"
"As long as you're happy."
"...”
The Young Miss tightly pursed her lips, unable to utter a word, yet her gaze could have killed a dozen people.
Seeing her frustrated, Wen Ruoxian couldn't help but hold back a laugh, dispelling the heavy mood. Whenever bantering with Song Qingluo, she too became childish; her face didn't display as much happiness throughout the entire year as it did this winter.
It's only at moments like this that one can perceive life in different shades.
It’s like going back to March this year...
She and Ranran also had such a time.
"Thank you for standing up today," Wen Ruoxian timely changed the subject, trying to smooth the Young Miss’ hair.
Sure enough, Song Qingluo's attention was diverted. She withdrew her intimidating expression and asked with puzzlement, "What?"
"Singing in my stead.”
"Didn't you want to sing?"
“Mm, I didn't want to."
"Why?"
The true reason is unknown; it's meant to decay at the bottom of her heart.
Wen Ruoxian lied with an unchanged expression and heartbeat, "I don't have a musical bone; singing poorly would be embarrassing."
"Then we complement each other." Song Qingluo, without suspicion, added, "In the future, if someone taunts you again, I'll step in for you. Though my specialty is the violin, my singing isn't bad. Just keep me by your side always."
Wen Ruoxian wanted to say that only keys hang from her belt all day. However, looking at Song Qingluo's sincere and hopeful eyes, the words got stuck in her throat.
“Okay."
There was a moment of silence.
As both of them quietly gazed at each other.
"Wen Ruoxian..."
"Mm?"
"Did you know you were especially cool today? Being with you makes me feel safe." Song Qingluo gazed deeply at her.
Strange and subtle emotions flooded into Wen Ruoxian's heart again.
She was as panicked as when being teased or touched, which made her instinctively avoid and get used to hiding.
Wen Ruoxian smiled, "We're both women; if we can understand each other's social situations and help, we naturally should do our best."
A textbook-standard answer, even a correction for the unsaid, more proper words—she’s a client’s daughter.
She always knew how to articulate things beautifully.
Neither offending nor getting close. Always near, always distant, tactful in every step.
Song Qingluo thought so.
Although it made her restless, it didn't stop her from putting on a rare face that she considered to be the most serious: "But Wen Ruoxian, listen carefully, no matter what happens, you must consider your own safety first, understood?"
Whether it was due to the overly bright lights or those too-clear eyes, a faint mist of water shimmered.
Wen Ruoxian couldn't help but become serious too: “Yes, I understand.”
Song Qingluo bent down again, and tightened her arms, burying her face at her neck, not letting her see how close she was to crying.
In reality, there was no grudge.
When Wen Ruoxian appeared carrying the iron rod, all the little emotions and tempers dissipated. At least at that moment, Wen Ruoxian's thoughts were solely about her, and that was enough.
Author's Note:
PS: If there is no update before midnight in the future, please don't wait and just check again the next day, muah muah.