Chapter 9
Shi Ye stared at the two cat emojis covered by blankets on his phone screen, his lips involuntarily curving upwards for three seconds before he immediately suppressed it.
"No, no, what are you laughing at!" she scolded herself inwardly. "They're just two emojis! Don't friends send each other these in the original world?! Don't overinterpret them!"
But she still stared at the round cat head for a long time until the screen automatically turned off.
The room was quiet, with only the faint sound of the air conditioner vents. Shi Ye lay on the bed, staring at the light and shadow on the ceiling—the stripes left by the streetlights outside the window through the blinds. One by one, neat and orderly, like piano keys.
She turned over and lay on her side looking at the bunch of keys on the bedside table. The silver metal gleamed coldly in the night, its presence too strong to be ignored.
"Give me the key..." Shi Ye reached out and took the key, weighing it in his palm. "What is this? An invitation to live together? A protective measure? Or... some kind of symbol?"
A small metal tag hangs on the keychain, engraved with the word "烬" (Jin). The character is handwritten, with strong, vigorous strokes.
Shi Ye traced the character with her fingertips. The coolness of the metal seeped through her skin, and she suddenly remembered Qi Jin's fingers—long, slender, with distinct knuckles, as steady as a rock when holding a sword, and so warm when holding her hand.
"Stop!" Shi Ye put the key back. "What are you thinking about now!"
She sat up, deciding to find something to do to distract herself. Looking around the room, her gaze fell on the bookshelf. She'd only read a few books that afternoon; there were still many more to come.
Shi Ye got out of bed and walked to the bookshelf. This time, she didn't just pick one up randomly, but browsed it carefully. The bookshelf was divided into several shelves: the top shelf was filled with economics and management books, all hardcover and very soothing to look at; the middle shelf was for literature, including Chinese and foreign classics, as well as a few poetry collections; the bottom shelf was for miscellaneous books, including comics, illustrated guides, travel guides, and even a few cookbooks.
"This person has quite a wide range of interests." Shi Ye pulled out a cookbook and opened it—not one of those flashy internet-famous recipes, but a proper cooking textbook, explaining everything in detail from knife skills to heat control. There were creases and notes in the pages, so it seemed to have actually been used.
She turned to the page with "Sweet and Sour Pork Ribs" and saw a pencil mark: "Reduce sugar by 5g, increase vinegar by 3ml, Xiao Ye prefers a sour taste."
Shi Ye's finger paused on that line of text. Xiao Ye? Is that what Qi Jin calls her in private?
She flipped through a few more pages and found that many dishes had similar notes: "Braised pork belly - Xiaoye doesn't eat fatty meat, so we used lean pork belly instead," "Steamed fish - Xiaoye is afraid of bones, so we used cod instead," "Vegetable salad - Xiaoye hates raw onions, so we used bell peppers instead"...
Shi Ye closed the book, a strange feeling welling up inside her. It wasn't感动 (moved/touched)—she reminded herself, people with depression can't be moved—was it…unexpected? Surprised? Or something else entirely?
“System,” she asked, “how long has Qi Jinji kept these records?”
"Judging from the wear and tear on the pages and the oxidation of the handwriting, the notes were started three years ago and have been continuously updated to this day."
Three years. Another three years. This number, like a curse, has permeated all her past with Qi Jin—three years of unrequited love, three years of secretly taking photos (Qi Jin insists it was a chance encounter), three years of recipe notes…
Shi Ye put the recipe back and then picked up a book of poetry. This time it was Neruda's *Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair*. Opening the title page, she saw the words: "A Birthday Gift for Xiao Ye - Ashes."
The date was two years ago. At that time, the original owner had just turned twenty.
Shi Ye opened the book; it had many folded pages. She randomly opened one, and it was the famous poem, "I Like You When You're Silent." Next to the poem was a pencil annotation: "She doesn't know I'm watching her. That's for the best."
Turn the page again, and you'll find "We've Even Lost the Twilight." The caption reads: "I saw her at the coffee shop today; she was crying. I wanted to go over, but I didn't dare."
Another chapter, "Tonight I Can Write." Annotation: "Write, then tear, tear, then write. In the end, nothing was sent."
Shi Ye's fingers trembled slightly. She closed the book, put it back on the shelf, took two steps back, and slumped down on the edge of the bed.
"What is this?" she asked in her heart. "A collection of heartfelt confessions? A guide to unrequited love? Qi Jin, when you wrote this, did you ever think that I would see it one day?"
She suddenly wanted to laugh—not a happy laugh, but an absurd one. A woman who was ruthless and decisive in the business world, yet privately filled her notebook with innocent, youthful love poems. The contrast was too great!
But she couldn't smile. Her facial muscles seemed frozen, unable to produce any expression.
Shi Ye picked up her phone and saw it was Qi Jin: "Can't sleep?"
Shi Ye stared at those three words, her finger hovering above the screen. How should she reply? Should she say, "I'm looking at your secret crush's notes"? Or should she say, "You scared me"?
Finally, she replied, "A little."
Qi Jin: "Do you need sleeping pills? I have some prescribed by a doctor, they're very safe."
Shi Ye: "No need, I'm not that badly injured."
Qi Jin: "Then...would you like me to come over and talk to you?"
Shi Ye nearly threw her phone away. Come here?! Now?! Late at night?! A lone woman?!
"No need!" she replied quickly. "I'm going to sleep right away!"
Qi Jin: "Okay. Good night."
Shi Ye stared at the words "Goodnight" and suddenly felt a little... disappointed? No, not disappointed, it was... she didn't know what it was.
“System,” she said, “am I sick? I refuse when people want to come over, and then I feel... empty when they leave?”
"The complexity of human emotions is beyond the scope of the system analysis. However, the data shows that the host's current heart rate is slightly elevated and cortisol levels are fluctuating slightly."
Shi Ye sighed. So her body reacted, but her mind felt nothing. What is this? Dissociative identity disorder?
She lay back on the bed, forcing herself to close her eyes. She counted sheep, counted dumplings, counted how many books were on Qi Jin's bookshelf…
She gave up when she reached the 237th book.
Shi Ye sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The warm yellow light instantly filled the room, dispelling the darkness. She looked at the bookshelf; the books stood quietly, like silent secrets.
She suddenly wanted to see how many more such "secrets" Qi Jin was hiding.
Shi Ye got out of bed and went back to the bookshelf. This time she carefully examined the bookshelf's structure—a very ordinary solid wood bookshelf, nothing special. But she noticed a small groove on the side of the bookshelf, which was not noticeable unless you looked closely.
Shi Ye reached out and pressed the groove—no response. She tried pushing it, and the side panel of the bookshelf actually moved! Was it a hidden compartment?!
Her heart pounded as she carefully pushed open the side panel. Inside was a shallow space containing an iron box.
Shi Ye took the box out; it was a bit heavy. She sat back down on the bed and placed the box on her lap.
The box wasn't locked, just simply fastened. Shi Ye hesitated for a moment—wasn't it a bit inappropriate to peek into someone's privacy? But this was Qi Jin's guest room; Qi Jin should know she would see it, right? Otherwise, why would he put it in such an easily visible place?
"Who cares!" she told herself, "Just one look!"
She opened the box.
There was no gold or silver jewelry, no confidential documents, only... a bunch of small things.
A faded pink hair tie with little strawberry decorations. Shi Ye picked it up and felt it looked familiar. Wait, isn't this the kind she used in middle school? Back then, girls everywhere wore strawberry hair ties.
Below the hair tie is a movie ticket stub, dated five years ago, for the movie "Your Name". The ticket stub is faded, but the seat numbers are still legible: row 7, seat 5 and row 7, seat 6.
Shi Ye frowned. It was normal for Qi Jin to go to the movies, but why keep the ticket stub? And why put it in a box?
She continued flipping through the pages. An amusement park ticket, dated four years ago; an art museum catalog, three years ago; a coffee shop cup sleeve with a smiley face drawn on it in marker; and several Polaroid photos—
Shi Ye picked up the photos. The first one was of her, probably sixteen or seventeen years old, smiling happily in front of a carousel at an amusement park. In the lower right corner of the photo was a line of small print: "First chance encounter, she didn't notice me."
The second picture is of her again, in an art museum, frowning in thought as she looks at a painting. The caption reads: "She looked at this painting for twenty minutes, and I was looking at her."
The third picture shows her asleep at a coffee shop, with her notebook spread out beside her. The caption reads: "She's asleep, her eyelashes are very long."
The fourth, the fifth, the sixth… they were all of her. All of them were the “chance encounters” that Qi Jin had mentioned.
Shi Ye put down the photo, feeling short of breath. This wasn't just unrequited love, this was practically... stalking!
She picked up the bottom item of the box—a thick notebook with a worn leather cover.
Shi Ye took a deep breath and opened his notebook.
The first page is dated five years ago.
"I saw her at the amusement park today. She was with her friends and was laughing happily. When she rode the carousel, her ponytail swung back and forth like a little bunny's tail. I watched her for a long time, but she didn't notice."
Page two, two months later.
"I bumped into her at the library. She was looking for a book and couldn't reach the top shelf while standing on tiptoe. I helped her get it, and she said thank you with a smile in her eyes. She didn't know who I was; I was just a stranger."
Page 3, four years ago.
"It seems she's in love. She was shopping with a guy, holding hands. My heart was aching, but I pretended not to see. I went home and cried; it was so embarrassing."
Page 4.
"She broke up with her boyfriend. She was crying in a coffee shop, and I sat in a corner, too scared to go near her. I could only ask the waiter to bring her a hot chocolate with double marshmallows—her favorite."
Page 5, Page 6, Page 7...
Shi Ye turned the pages one by one, her hands trembling. The diary had lasted for five years, recording countless "chance encounters" and countless fragmented moments. Qi Jin remembered what she liked, what she disliked, what her expression was when she was happy, and what she looked like when she was sad.
The last page is dated three months ago.
"My father brought up the arranged marriage, and the other party was the Shi family. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would explode. It's her, it's her, it's her. After waiting for so many years, finally... I have a chance. But should it be this way? A business marriage? Would she be willing? Would she hate me? I don't care, as long as I can get close to her, I'll do anything."
This concludes my diary entry.
Shi Ye closed her notebook and shut her eyes. The room was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of her breathing and her heartbeat—fast and heavy.
Her mind was a mess. Five years, over a hundred pages, tens of thousands of words. Qi Jin spent five years silently observing someone, recording someone, and secretly loving someone.
And she knew nothing.
"System," her voice was a little hoarse, "is this...normal?"
"The definition of 'normal' needs to take into account the socio-cultural context. In the current world setting, the behavior of having a long-term crush and recording it is not common, but it is not pathological."
"What about stalking?" Shi Ye asked. "Wouldn't that count as stalking?"
"According to the diary entries, Qi Jin maintained a distance from the host within the limits permitted by social norms and did not interfere with the host's normal life. Legally, this does not constitute stalking."
Shi Ye didn't know what to say. She looked at the metal box, the small items, and the thick diary. For five years, Qi Jin's entire adolescence, he had secretly loved her.
She transmigrated into the book, took over this body, but couldn't give any response.
There was a sudden, gentle knock on the door.
Shi Ye was startled and almost knocked the box over. She hurriedly put the things away, returned them to the hidden compartment, pushed up the side panel, and then said, "Come in, come in."
The door opened, and Qi Jin stood in the doorway, holding a glass of milk.
“I heard noises coming from your room,” Qi Jin said. “I thought you couldn’t sleep, so I heated up some milk.”
Shi Ye looked at her, and his first thought was: "Does she know that I saw her secret?"
My second thought was, "She looks pretty in her pajamas."
Qi Jin was wearing a dark blue silk nightgown, the neckline slightly open, revealing his collarbone. His hair was loose, giving him a softer look than usual.
"Thank you." Shi Ye took the milk; the temperature was just right.
Qi Jin didn't leave immediately, but sat down on the chair by the bed: "Had a nightmare?"
"No," Shi Ye shook his head, "It's just... I can't sleep."
Want to chat?
Shi Ye looked at Qi Jin. Under the warm yellow light, Qi Jin's eyes were bright and his gaze was gentle. This Qi Jin was completely different from the shy, secretly infatuated girl in the diary and the cold and decisive CEO in the business world.
"Qi Jin," Shi Ye suddenly asked, "Do you have a secret?"
Qi Jin was taken aback: "...Yes. Everyone has secrets."
"Then... will you tell me your secret?"
Qi Jin looked at her and remained silent for a long time. So long that Shi Ye thought she wouldn't answer.
"Yes," Qi Jin finally said, "but not now."
"Why?"
“Because…” Qi Jin carefully chose his words, “some secrets need the right time. If I tell you too soon, it will scare you.”
Shi Ye recalled that diary, those photos, and the five years in that metal box. Indeed, if Qi Jin told her everything now, she might... not know how to react.
"Then when do you think," Shi Ye asked, "is the right time?"
Qi Jin thought for a moment: "When you... are no longer afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Really?" Qi Jin looked at her. "Then why do you always avoid me?"
Shi Ye was speechless. Yes, why did she always avoid him? Was it because she was afraid? Because she didn't know what to do? Or was it because... she couldn't give a response?
"I don't know," she said honestly.
Qi Jin smiled, but the smile was tinged with bitterness: "It's alright. I can wait."
That same phrase again. Wait. It seems Qi Jin has poured all his patience into her.
Shi Ye lowered his head and drank his milk. The milk smelled delicious, with a touch of honey added, and the sweetness was just right.
"Qi Jin," she finished her milk and placed the cup on the bedside table, "what if... I mean, what if the person you're waiting for never responds to you?"
Qi Jin looked into her eyes and said very seriously, "Then I'll wait a lifetime."
Is it worth it?
Whether it's worth it or not is up to me.
Shi Ye was speechless. She looked at Qi Jin, and Qi Jin looked at her. Their gazes met in the warm yellow light, and something in the air seemed to subtly shift.
"Shi Ye," Qi Jin said softly, "may I... hug you?"
Shi Ye's heart skipped a beat. A hug? Now? In the dead of night? In his pajamas?
"Just for a moment," Qi Jin added, "like friends."
Looking into her expectant yet cautious eyes, Shi Ye suddenly found himself unable to refuse. She nodded.
Qi Jin stood up, walked to the bedside, and gently embraced her. It was a very light embrace, his arms loosely encircling her, as if afraid of breaking something precious.
Shi Ye's body stiffened. She could smell Qi Jin's scent—the fresh fragrance of shower gel mixed with a hint of her own cool fragrance. She could feel Qi Jin's body temperature emanating through his thin pajamas. She could hear Qi Jin's heartbeat, steady and strong.
Her body was screaming warnings: "Close contact! Danger! Retreat!" But her brain was saying: "It's just for a moment, it's nothing."
Qi Jin hugged him for about five seconds before letting go. He took a step back, his expression unchanged, except the tips of his ears were a little red.
"Thank you," she said.
Shi Ye: "...What are you thanking me for?"
"Thank you for letting me hug you," Qi Jin said. "Goodnight."
She picked up the empty cup, turned and left. Reaching the door, she turned back: "Shi Ye."
"Um?"
“No matter what you see or know, there’s no need to feel pressured,” Qi Jin said. “That’s all in the past. What matters is the present and the future.”
After saying that, she closed the door and left.
Shi Ye sat on the bed, her mind buzzing. Did Qi Jin know she had seen those things? Was that why he deliberately said those things?
“System,” she asked, “did Qi Jin install surveillance cameras in my room?”
"Scanning... No monitoring device detected."
"How did she know?"
“It might just be intuition,” the system said. “Or… she wants you to know.”
Shi Ye collapsed onto the bed, pulling the blanket over his head. This world is too complicated, Qi Jin is too complicated, everything is complicated.
She just wanted things to be simple.
It's not that simple.
The air inside the blanket quickly became stuffy. Shi Ye crawled out, breathing heavily. She looked at the bookshelf; the hidden compartment was quietly closed, as if nothing had happened.
But it did happen. She saw Qi Jin's five years, Qi Jin's deep affection, Qi Jin's... persistence.
“Five years…” Shi Ye murmured to himself, “How many five-year periods can a person have?”
She recalled her life in her original world. Five years had passed; she had gone from a college graduate to a corporate slave, living the same life every day, without surprises, without unexpected events, and without... such a person, who had silently watched her for five years.
"If the original owner were still alive," Shi Ye wondered, "what would she choose? Would she accept Qi Jin?"
I don't know. The original owner died, and she came. She inherited this body, inherited this relationship, but she couldn't inherit the feelings.
The phone vibrated again. Shi Ye picked it up and saw a long message from Lin Xiaoyu about choosing bridesmaid dress colors, from champagne to light purple to misty blue, with pictures and analysis of the pros and cons of each color.
Shi Ye looked at the pictures of those colorful dresses and suddenly smiled. Lin Xiaoyu's simple enthusiasm, in this complicated situation, became a breath of fresh air.
She replied, "The misty blue color is beautiful."
Lin Xiaoyu replied instantly: "Right, right! I think so too! They match Shi Ye's temperament perfectly! Senior sister will definitely like them too!"
Shi Ye: "...Why does Qi Jin like him?"
"Because love is about mutual appreciation!" Lin Xiaoyu sent a wink emoji. "When Shi Ye looks good, my senior is happy, and our relationship gets even better!"
Shi Ye put down her phone, not wanting to reply to this love-struck kid anymore.
She turned off the light and lay back down. In the darkness, her thoughts became clearer.
Qi Jin's five years, Qi Jin's waiting, Qi Jin's embrace... little by little, like water droplets, fell on the frozen soil in her heart.
The frozen ground won't thaw immediately. But with continuous dripping of water, perhaps one day it will be able to create a small hole.
Maybe.
Shi Ye closed her eyes. Sleepiness slowly crept in, and just before she drifted off, a thought flashed through her mind:
"What if... I mean, what if... I tried to accept it?"
Not now. Not immediately. It's slowly, little by little, trying to make something grow on that frozen ground.
Even a small blade of grass can bring life.
This thought reassured her somewhat. She turned over and fell into a deep sleep.
Outside the door, Qi Jin stood in the corridor, leaning against the wall, holding the empty milk cup in his hand.
She stared at Shi Ye's door, her eyes filled with conflicting emotions. She knew Shi Ye had seen those things—the hidden compartment in the side panel of the bookshelf was a clue she had deliberately left. Those diaries, those photos, those trinkets—they were all "secrets" she had prepared, waiting for Shi Ye to discover.
She wanted Shi Ye to know, but she was also afraid that Shi Ye would find out.
"Five years..." Qi Jin murmured to himself, "Wouldn't that scare her?"
She didn't know. But she was willing to gamble. She gambled that her heart wasn't truly frozen, that time could melt everything, and that her waiting would eventually be rewarded.
Even if it takes a lifetime.
Qi Jin turned and went back to her room. The light in the corridor stretched her shadow long, lonely, but resolute.
That night, both of them had dreams.
Shi Ye dreamt that she was walking on a snowy plain, with a series of footprints following her. She turned around, but could see nothing.
Qi Jin dreamt that she was standing in the rain, looking at Shi Ye in the distance. Shi Ye was holding an umbrella and walking further and further away. She tried desperately to catch up, but she could never catch up.
When I woke up, it was still dark.
Shi Ye opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. The feeling of being followed in the dream felt very real.
Qi Jin also woke up. She sat up and looked at the whitening sky outside the window.
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