Chapter 27: Contentment

Jiang Ya’s sudden question left Qi Yu stunned a long moment—only staring at her, speechless.
She looked into Jiang Ya’s eyes—watery light, pupils trembling. Usually gentle—but now unmistakable displeasure in them, however faint.
Qi Yu was especially sensitive to Jiang Ya’s moods.
So she understood even less—what Jiang Ya was stubborn about, angry about, clinging to. She had only spoken casually.
Thoughts blank a beat—Qi Yu still frowned at Jiang Ya, as if searching the next line to ease the awkward silence.
Before she found it, the one meeting her eyes looked away first.
Jiang Ya lowered her gaze, lashes fluttering fast; emotion vanished the instant her eyes dropped. She moved her chopsticks twice; looking up again she tucked hair behind her ear, expression back to normal.
She said, “Sorry—I got a bit emotional just now…”
Qi Yu slowly came back too, looked down, breathed deep while settling herself. “It’s fine…”
“I just…” After thinking she still had to explain. “I didn’t mean it. I was talking at random—don’t take it so seriously.”
“I know.” Jiang Ya looked at her, light smile at her lips—warm and steady again, as if that flash had been Qi Yu’s illusion.
Qi Yu stared at her face, thinking something, seconds passing before she looked away. “I think… it’s not urgent anyway. Depends on fate… when fate comes maybe…”
Her own words choked her. She stopped, did not finish.
She did not look at Jiang Ya—missed the smile freezing on Jiang Ya’s face. One more glance would have shown how forced it was.
Lost in her own head, she almost wanted to explain more—but Jiang Ya gave her no chance.
“Hey—is this called fish-roe lucky bag?” Jiang Ya did not pick up the thread; eyes smiling as she shared. “I love this. Have you tried it?”
Qi Yu blinked again at her eager question. Jiang Ya’s expression was perfectly normal—as if only sharing food.
But even if Jiang Ya hid it well—years knowing her—Qi Yu knew Jiang Ya was best at hiding feelings.
Maybe because Qi Yu did not answer, Jiang Ya started another topic—today’s gym, random talk needing no reply, talking to herself.
Qi Yu kept watching. Jiang Ya spoke absorbed; inside Qi Yu’s thoughts tangled—could not stop replaying the sudden question, the displeasure in her eyes.
That displeasure seemed groundless—yet not entirely unreadable. Like searching in fog—answer near, never caught.
Forget it… maybe overthinking. No point digging deeper.
“You spaced out? What are you thinking?” Jiang Ya had stopped sometime ago, watching silent Qi Yu, and asked.
“Nothing.” Qi Yu blinked awake, faint smile in cooperation. “Just moving—whether to buy new furniture or bring things from home…”
“Right—where were you? Keep going.”
……
Qi Yu had felt it might rain before leaving today. The rain held until night finally fell.
Fine drizzle spread evenly over Nanliu streets. Some pedestrians hurried; some only pulled on a hat and walked unhurried.
Qi Yu and Jiang Ya stood under the shop awning, both turned to the crowd, then together looked at the sky.
Night deep, rain woven in—seemingly endless; looking closer, the fall was growing.
“No idea how long… should’ve picked somewhere near the complex.” Jiang Ya gazed at the black sky. “At least ten minutes back… I didn’t bring an umbrella.”
Qi Yu looked too. “I checked—phone says over an hour. Don’t know if it’s true.”
Then she turned to Jiang Ya. “You… walking back alone?”
“You didn’t bring an umbrella—how?”
Jiang Ya paused, then said, “I’ll wait. If not I’ll buy one at the convenience store next door.”
“If you have an umbrella you can go first.”
Qi Yu: “Me first? If I go first…” what about you?
Jiang Ya saw her hesitate, put the cap back on, smiled. “We’re not the same way—don’t trouble yourself. You go.”
“……” Qi Yu looked at her a while—did not speak, did not leave.
In that hesitation the rain grew—from fine to pattering; more figures running for cover swept past in blurred rain.
At last Qi Yu broke the silence. “Don’t wait. I’ll take you back.”
She pulled a black folding umbrella from her bag, opened it quick. “Big enough for two.”
She stepped out first—rain drummed the canopy.
Qi Yu looked back—Jiang Ya had not followed. “Come on. If it gets worse we can’t walk.”
Jiang Ya stared two seconds, stepped under the umbrella. Coming close, her arm brushed Qi Yu’s inevitably.
“Sorry to trouble you again.” Jiang Ya looked down, walking with her. “I didn’t check weather—forgot an umbrella.”
“Fine.” Qi Yu stepped around a puddle carefully. “Lucky one of us had one—or we’d still be waiting.”
“Feels like it’s really coming down… hold the umbrella—I’ll get the key and start the bike.”
Qi Yu’s e-bike was on the street beside the shop—no cover, whole vehicle wet, seat soaked—you would wet your pants sitting.
She grabbed a rag from the trunk, wiped the seat once, wet or not, and had Jiang Ya on quickly.
Rain did grow—from light to downpour in moments.
Fortunately not far from Jiang Ya’s complex. Qi Yu did not slow, under five minutes to the traffic light—cross the road, one more corner and they were at the gate.
Qi Yu had just exhaled at the red light when wind howled from the side—nearly flipping the umbrella.
“Ah—” Jiang Ya was slight; she gripped the handle hard to steady it. The umbrella barely fit two—one tilt and slanting rain got in.
Red light counting down. Qi Yu glanced back, brow knit, shouted, “Give me the umbrella—I’ll hold it.”
Jiang Ya startled, gripped tighter. “No! You’re driving—unsafe. I’ll hold it.”
“No time.” Qi Yu did not negotiate—sideways she took the umbrella from her hands.
Next second—green light.
Jiang Ya watched helpless, worried. “This is really dangerous!”
Qi Yu one hand on umbrella, one on throttle, watching traffic, only managed, “Wind’s strong—if you can’t hold it and it flies, we both get soaked.”
“Don’t worry—I’ll go slow. You… move closer so rain doesn’t hit you.”
“Okay.”
Feeling the speed really drop, Jiang Ya stopped arguing. She leaned forward slightly—cap off somewhere, bangs blown loose, squinting at the road in the gale.
Wind and rain—leaves shaking loose, littering the road. Wheels crunched over them; Qi Yu thought Jiang Ya said something at her ear.
“What?” She did not catch it.
“I said…” Jiang Ya leaned close; her body touched Qi Yu’s back by accident. “Can I hold your clothes? I don’t know where to put my hands…”
“Hold on.” Qi Yu answered offhand. Focused on driving—no room for else; she even forgot to shy from Jiang Ya pressed against her.
Permitted, Jiang Ya’s eyes fell on the back before her. Qi Yu’s build like hers—long limbs, thin shoulders. Both slender—yet somehow Qi Yu was much stronger.
Jiang Ya raised her idle hands—not tight, loosely gripping fabric at Qi Yu’s sides; chin unconsciously toward Qi Yu’s shoulder.
Slow ride—but wind no smaller. Umbrella fighting the gust; only hundreds of meters left yet this stretch felt endless.
Qi Yu stubborn against the wind—left arm numb from holding, still dared not relax one second—one lapse and the wind might snatch the umbrella.
In that urgent moment she clearly felt the person behind press closer—warm breath at the side of her neck.
Something strange flashed in her chest; her eyes wavered; the umbrella hand shook.
Then Jiang Ya again: “I feel… wind’s too strong, rain’s blowing in…”
“Can I hold you?”
“Huh?”
Qi Yu blanked.
By the time she reacted, arms were already around her waist from the front; another person’s warmth and weight on her back.
Qi Yu went rigid.
Looking down—Jiang Ya’s arms circled her waist. Not crushing—but Qi Yu felt bound, afraid to shift, could not move.
Jiang Ya leaned her face on Qi Yu’s shoulder without care—that solid reliance eased her; a satisfaction she had never known made her want to hold tighter, fingers clutching Qi Yu’s clothes.
She did not notice the body she hugged was soft but stiff as wood.
Tingles spread from the shoulder Jiang Ya rested on; Qi Yu’s neck shivered uncontrollably.
She could not bear it—reason snapped—she braked hard, slowly turned her head in disbelief, sidelong at the person behind still holding on.