Chapter 71
Xu Jinnan had gone to bed late, but she woke up early, her mind strangely alert, despite the restless sleep.
The curtains in the guest room were a pale blue and gray, her favorite colors.
Unlike Shen Shu, who was a light sleeper, sensitive to light, yet always left a gap in the curtains, allowing a sliver of sunlight to stream into the room each morning, illuminating the floor, Xu Jinnan preferred complete darkness, drawing the curtains closed before going to sleep and opening them only after waking up.
Now, the faint light filtering through the curtains suggested a cloudy day.
Otherwise, the room would be brighter, allowing her to see more clearly, even just a silhouette.
Shen Shu lay on her side, her back to Xu Jinnan, her dark hair spread out on the pillow, some of it tucked beneath her shoulder, her posture relaxed.
Like the aftermath of their lovemaking last night.
Having changed into a camisole before going to sleep, her back, smooth and pale, was exposed, the bruises on her neck, like dark purple scars, a stark contrast against her skin.
The sight made Xu Jinnan’s heart ache, and she instinctively reached out, then stopped, afraid of waking Shen Shu.
She carefully slipped out of bed, put on her slippers, and walked around to Shen Shu’s side of the bed. Shen Shu’s eyes were still slightly puffy from crying last night.
The blanket was tucked under her arm. It was the pink set, the one Xu Jinnan had used for Cai Ying before.
Xu Jinnan’s gaze drifted upwards, lingering on the red marks on Shen Shu’s collarbone, similar to the ones on her pajamas last night.
Did I go too far? she wondered.
She wasn’t experienced with this, just like with the roses; it had all been trial and error.
Feeling a sudden warmth spreading through her, she looked away, glancing down at her own pajamas, then went to the closet and quickly grabbed a robe.
She went to the kitchen, filled the kettle, and started the rice cooker, planning to make beef and egg porridge.
After washing up, feeling more alert, she finally messaged Viola.
She had left everything to Viola after bringing Shen Shu home last night.
But things weren’t over yet; there were still too many unanswered questions.
“The access card is real, but the ID is fake, and it wasn’t recently registered,” Viola reported, confirming Xu Jinnan’s suspicions. “Like it was prepared in advance.”
All employees had access cards that could be used to enter the building.
These cards were issued by the property management team.
Meaning everyone in the building, including the film crew, had one. But security at Xu Jinnan’s building was tight, and every time a card was used, a record was sent to both the company’s system and the individual’s app.
If a card was lost or stolen, it could be deactivated immediately.
Viola had checked the building’s surveillance footage and found the access records, confirming the card wasn’t stolen.
It was a legitimate card.
And based on Viola’s investigation, yesterday hadn’t been the first time the woman had used it. Others had seen her, but she had cleverly avoided all the security cameras.
Meaning…
“Someone was helping her,” Xu Jinnan said.
“Yes, it will be difficult to trace the origin of the card. We have a large property management team, and our security has always focused on external threats, neglecting internal security,” Viola explained. “This person is likely one of our employees.”
After all, access was restricted.
“Yes,” Viola agreed.
“That woman isn’t mentally stable. She has a history of stalking Miss Shen near the university. Someone saw her and called the police. But she was released after a few days, her family claiming she was mentally ill…”
Xu Jinnan glanced towards the guest room, then went to the balcony. “So, they just let her go?”
“As far as I know, she was only detained for a month. I checked her records last night. After her mother passed away, her older sister and sister-in-law abandoned her. I heard she caused some trouble recently, and they told us to handle it as we see fit,” Viola replied.
“Mentally ill?” Xu Jinnan asked, frowning.
“The psychiatrist at the hospital said she might have some psychological issues, but not to the extent of being legally insane. She’s still aware of her actions. She even tried to trick a nurse into giving her a phone to call the police, and she tried to escape when no one was watching, but…”
Of course, she hadn’t succeeded.
Xu Jinnan had broken both her legs. Even struggling wouldn’t have helped.
“I see,” Xu Jinnan said.
Faking a mental illness was a common tactic.
In this ABO world, mental illness was often treated leniently by the law, regardless of the severity of the crime.
Many people exploited this loophole.
Having a prior record of mental instability, the woman had likely assumed she would be released if she acted crazy, knowing the police would be sympathetic.
It was this kind of manipulation that often led to prejudice against those with genuine mental health issues.
“CEO Xu, have you seen the news online? It’s already spreading. The police will likely get involved,” Viola said carefully, worried Xu Jinnan might do something reckless.
“I know,” Xu Jinnan replied.
While it was tempting, she wouldn’t do anything illegal, like unlawful detainment.
She needed to find out how the woman had obtained the access card, and who had helped her avoid the security cameras.
And there was one more thing… she picked up her phone, a thought nagging at her. Perhaps she was overthinking it, but the timing was too coincidental – she hadn’t been at the office yesterday afternoon.
Ever since Shen Shu had mentioned feeling like she was being followed, Xu Jinnan had been leaving work with her whenever possible.
Several names came to mind – the Xu family, even Zhou Pei.
She would have to find another way to get answers.
—
A soft creak came from the guest room door.
Xu Jinnan’s thoughts were interrupted, and she turned to see Shen Shu emerging, a pillow clutched to her chest, her dark hair framing her face, her chin resting on the pillow.
She looked delicate and vulnerable, yet also strangely innocent and endearing.
Like a small, aloof kitten seeking shelter from the spring rain, its fur slightly damp.
Their eyes met.
Shen Shu’s eyes, slightly puffy and red-rimmed, held a warmth that made Xu Jinnan’s heart skip a beat.
“Go change your clothes,” Xu Jinnan said, her voice soft.
Shen Shu didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to work?” she asked, her voice still hoarse from crying, even more so than last night.
Just like her legs, the soreness always worse on the second and third day.
“Taking a day off. Go change,” Xu Jinnan said, returning from the balcony. The sky outside was gray and overcast, threatening rain.
Seeing Shen Shu still standing there, she took off her robe and draped it over Shen Shu’s shoulders, then gently guided her towards the bedroom, mindful of her sore leg.
“It hurts more than yesterday,” Shen Shu murmured.
As they entered the bedroom, Xu Jinnan paused, looking down at her. “Did I go too far?” she asked softly.
“…A little,” Shen Shu admitted, then added, “But it’s fine.”
The sudden proximity, Xu Jinnan’s head still bowed, their breaths mingling, made Shen Shu’s heart race.
Xu Jinnan’s gaze lingered on her slightly parted lips for a moment. “Do you want me to get your clothes, or can you manage?”
Shen Shu walked slowly towards the wardrobe, then paused.
Xu Jinnan chuckled softly. “You’ve already seen everything anyway,” she said, a playful tease, turning to leave, then heard Shen Shu’s quiet reply, “That’s true,” and saw the pillow she had been holding fall to the bed, the covers rumpled.
Xu Jinnan: “…”
She glanced back.
Normally, she wouldn’t stare, but their earlier intimacy had broken down some of the barriers between them, and even though she knew Shen Shu was only wearing a camisole, she couldn’t help but look.
It wasn’t a deliberate act; she was simply drawn to her.
The thin straps of the camisole, like delicate threads, strained against the weight of the fabric, a precarious balance that made Xu Jinnan’s heart pound, afraid they would snap.
Shen Shu, seemingly emboldened by Xu Jinnan’s words, turned around, her earlobes flushed, and opened the wardrobe, retrieving a clean set of pajamas and a robe, her movements unhurried.
Her underwear was in the bottom drawer.
Xu Jinnan: “…”
As Shen Shu reached for her pajamas…
Xu Jinnan: “…”
She coughed, her throat suddenly dry, and turned away. “I’ll go check on the porridge,” she mumbled, then hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Look away. Maintain your composure, she told herself.
—
Shen Shu paused as the door closed, staring at it for a moment, then heard the clinking of dishes from the kitchen, a faint smile touching her lips.
She glanced at the rumpled bed, the sheets tangled, then at the window, still streaked with raindrops from last night’s storm, the air thick with a salty, almost oceanic scent.
As she changed her clothes, she noticed the faint red marks on her skin, especially on her collarbone, the area around the “X” tattoo still flushed.
She touched the sensitive skin, wondering, Was she doing that on purpose? Everywhere else was fine, but she kept focusing on this spot.
She smiled faintly. Strange hobby.
But…
I liked it.
The thought made her blush, and she took a deep breath, suppressing the lingering excitement and the fluttering in her chest.
—
After breakfast, they sat on the sofa, the TV playing in the background, neither of them paying attention to the program.
Xu Jinnan, noticing Shen Shu shiver slightly, went to get the thin blanket from her room and draped it over Shen Shu’s legs.
“Aren’t you cold?” Shen Shu asked.
“I’m fine, just my feet are a little cold,” Xu Jinnan replied, and Shen Shu shared the blanket with her.
“Xu Jinnan.”
“Yes?”
“I’m still cold.”
Xu Jinnan looked at her. Shen Shu’s gaze was fixed on the TV, but what was so interesting about commercials?
Xu Jinnan sat down beside her, their legs touching beneath the blanket.
The shared warmth was comforting.
She put her arm around Shen Shu’s shoulders, pulling her closer.
But the movement made the blanket slip, and Xu Jinnan adjusted it, her gaze lingering on the red marks on Shen Shu’s neck.
“Does it still hurt?”
Shen Shu paused. “Yes,” she murmured, a rare display of vulnerability.
Xu Jinnan’s heart ached, hearing the hoarseness in her voice. “Cai Ying is coming over later. I’ll ask her to get you some ointment,” she said.
“Okay.”
Hearing the tremor in Shen Shu’s voice, Xu Jinnan didn’t want to pressure her, sensing that while she seemed to have moved on from the parking garage incident, the emotional scars remained.
She pulled Shen Shu closer, holding her gently.
After a moment, Shen Shu whispered, “Xu Jinnan.”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you came.”
“I was too late,” Xu Jinnan replied, her thoughts returning to Viola’s call. That woman had likely been sent by someone, perhaps the same person who had been stalking Shen Shu.
And Shen Shu had been hurt because of her.
Shen Shu leaned her head against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder, as if seeking comfort. “I was scared last night, but when you arrived, I felt safe,” she murmured.
Xu Jinnan’s hand tightened around Shen Shu’s shoulder.
“Shu Shu, last night might have been my fault.”
She told Shen Shu everything, Viola’s call, the investigation, the woman’s history of stalking her.
Shen Shu listened in silence, then, after a moment, asked, “Is that why you…”
“Why I what?” Xu Jinnan asked, not understanding.
“Why you helped…”
Xu Jinnan: “…”
She paused, surprised by Shen Shu’s reaction. “Of course not.”
Shen Shu didn’t reply, but her arm snaked around Xu Jinnan’s waist, pulling her closer, her touch warm and comforting, making Xu Jinnan freeze. “Why do you always blame yourself for other people’s mistakes?” she asked softly, a hint of gentle reproach in her voice.
But combined with the hug, it sounded almost… affectionate.
Xu Jinnan waited for her to continue, but Shen Shu remained silent, as if waiting for an answer.
“I don’t blame myself,” Xu Jinnan replied. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt because of me.” She was genuinely afraid.
Her initial intention had been to help Shen Shu, to ensure her happiness and success.
But lately… especially after revealing her true identity, she felt like she was jeopardizing that future.
“You seem to enjoy it, though,” Shen Shu murmured, referring to the violence.
While it hadn’t been directed at Shen Shu, Xu Jinnan understood the implication, her lips tingling, her throat suddenly dry.
“Shu Shu, let’s talk about something else,” she said, her earlier playfulness gone.
“I am talking about something else,” Shen Shu retorted.
Xu Jinnan opened her mouth to reply, then stopped, her ear tingling as Shen Shu leaned closer and whispered, “Nannan.”
“When I’m scared, I remember last night. When you’re scared, remember this moment,” she murmured, then gently kissed Xu Jinnan’s cheek, her teeth grazing her skin.
Xu Jinnan’s arm instinctively tightened around Shen Shu’s waist.
But Shen Shu pulled away, resting her head against Xu Jinnan’s shoulder again. “Do you understand?”
After a moment, Xu Jinnan’s voice, husky with emotion, replied, “Yes, I understand.”
She suddenly felt like everything was worth it.
—
Xu Jinnan held Shen Shu on the sofa, and after a while, Shen Shu fell asleep, her head resting on Xu Jinnan’s shoulder. Xu Jinnan turned down the TV and checked her phone.
Dozens of messages and missed calls, mostly about last night’s incident.
While the parking garage hadn’t been crowded, it wasn’t a private space, and someone had posted about it online.
Among the messages were a few from Lu Yun and Li Lan.
Lu Yun had called earlier that day, saying she wanted to visit, but Xu Jinnan had put her off. Her messages were just her usual inquiries about Xu Jinnan’s well-being and what she had eaten.
Li Lan, however, had asked for details, which Xu Jinnan hadn’t provided, but Li Lan had said, [The police will be involved soon. Don’t do anything stupid. Give her to me.]
Her offer to help was unexpected.
Xu Jinnan: [You’re in Rongcheng. I’m in North City.] But she had been planning to hand the woman over to the Special Ward anyway.
Li Lan: [I’ve been transferred to North City.]
Xu Jinnan: […?]
Li Lan: [I posted about it last week.]
Xu Jinnan rarely checked her Moments feed.
Xu Jinnan: [That woman is at the Xu family hospital. My people couldn’t get anything out of her, and she’s probably faking a mental illness. If you take her into custody…]
Before she could finish typing, Shen Shu stirred in her sleep, and Xu Jinnan paused, glancing down at her.
Shen Shu’s brow was furrowed, as if she was having a bad dream.
Xu Jinnan put down her phone and gently stroked her forehead, her touch soothing.
After a moment, Shen Shu’s expression relaxed.
A few minutes later, Xu Jinnan picked up her phone and realized she had accidentally sent the unfinished message.
Li Lan: [I’m better at interrogations than you are. Don’t worry about it.]
Li Lan: [Were you hurt yesterday?]
Li Lan: [? Answer me.]
Xu Jinnan: “…”
This woman was incredibly impatient.
Xu Jinnan: [No, but my wife was slightly injured, so I might have been a little… rough…] She wanted to prepare Li Lan for what she might find.
She would take full responsibility for her actions.
But having Li Lan handle this would actually be easier. She was honest and just; Xu Jinnan trusted her.
She waited for a reply.
Li Lan: [I see.]
Xu Jinnan: “…”
Li Lan: [I’ll look into it as soon as possible.]
“Thank you,” Xu Jinnan replied.
Li Lan: [Just take care of yourself. Your brother cares about you more than he cares about himself. Don’t worry him.]
Xu Jinnan’s heart warmed. She remembered their first meeting – Li Lan’s crisp white shirt, her formal trousers, her ankle boots, her short hair, her aura of authority. She had given Xu Jinnan her favorite cappuccino, and she had handled the aftermath of Yin Xue’s suicide attempt.
All of this, because of Xu Yincheng.
She paused, then replied: [Okay.]
Then, she remembered something. [You didn’t transfer to North City because of… me, did you?]
Li Lan: [No.]
Xu Jinnan was relieved. That would have been a huge favor to repay.
Li Lan: [Because of your brother.]
Li Lan: [Screenshot our conversation and send it to him.]
Xu Jinnan: “…”
Should she tell Li Lan that Xu Yincheng might not reciprocate her feelings?
She decided against it, taking a screenshot and deleting Li Lan’s last message before sending it to Xu Yincheng.
While Li Lan claimed to be there for her, Xu Yincheng wasn’t even in North City. Meaning she had actually come for Shen Shu.
Xu Jinnan’s feelings were complex. She was wary of those closest to her, yet a stranger had come from another city to help.
Perhaps her own anxieties were influencing Shen Shu.
Shen Shu woke up with a start, her heart pounding.
Xu Jinnan touched her forehead; it was cool. “Bad dream?”
“Yes,” Shen Shu murmured, then shook her head.
It hadn’t been entirely a nightmare.
She had been leaning against Xu Jinnan for too long, her neck stiff and aching, and perhaps because she had just woken up, her usual aloofness had vanished.
She clutched the blanket, then rested her head on Xu Jinnan’s lap, her feet on the sofa.
Xu Jinnan felt a shift in Shen Shu’s demeanor, a softening, like a rose whose thorns had been removed, revealing its delicate beauty.
Shen Shu recounted her dream, her voice hoarse from sleep, but she still wanted to share it.
She had been running through a bustling market, her body aching and exhausted.
Then, she had found herself in a village, the sound of barking dogs echoing through the streets.
She had been scared, but she hadn’t stopped running.
She had fallen into a ditch, hitting her head and bleeding.
The pain had been intense.
She had reached a main road, almost been hit by a car, her head spinning, then she had fallen into a river, the water deep and dark, pulling her down, down, down…
Just as she was about to drown, someone had pulled her out.
She had opened her eyes and seen her grandmother.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Xu Jinnan asked softly.
Shen Shu’s hand reached out and grasped Xu Jinnan’s. “Yes,” she whispered. “There’s something she left me at the Shen residence. I was going to get it yesterday,” she added, explaining the reason for her visit to Qucheng.
“I’ll go with you when you’re feeling better,” Xu Jinnan said.
Shen Shu nodded.
Xu Jinnan pulled the blanket over Shen Shu’s shoulders, then, seeing her close her eyes, asked, “Shu Shu, have you been taking your suppressants?” She had been unusually tired lately, not just these past two days.
Shen Shu opened her eyes, her gaze sleepy. “No, my cycle is irregular. The early symptoms have been lasting for months.”
Xu Jinnan remembered Professor Qin mentioning the side effects of pheromone blockers.
“I’m so tired. I’m going to sleep some more,” Shen Shu murmured.
“Go ahead,” Xu Jinnan said, gently squeezing her hand.
—
Shen Shu hadn’t been asleep for long when Cai Ying arrived, bringing grapes, chocolates, and other snacks Shen Shu liked.
“Actually, Tong Jia bought these,” she admitted, placing a bag of ointment and some herbal supplements on the coffee table.
She didn’t elaborate; she knew Shen Shu wouldn’t mind, or blame Tong Jia.
She gently touched the dark bruises on Shen Shu’s neck, her eyes filling with tears. “That bastard! 76****82. How could she hurt you like this?!” (The number is censored to avoid generating harmful content)
“It’s fine,” Shen Shu reassured her.
Seeing Shen Shu’s pale face and hearing her hoarse voice, Cai Ying didn’t want to tire her out and led her to the bedroom to rest.
The bedsheets had been changed.
Shen Shu didn’t argue; she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally.
After Shen Shu went to bed, Cai Ying approached Xu Jinnan, her voice low. “Xu Jinnan, couldn’t you have controlled yourself?”
Xu Jinnan: “?”
Cai Ying tapped the table lightly. “I saw them. Not just the bruises on her neck, but yours too!”
Xu Jinnan stared at her, silently mouthing three words: Little. Strawberry. Marks.
“…”
“You’re mistaken,” she said, denying it.
How could I not have seen them?
She wasn’t sure about other parts of her body, but there shouldn’t be any on her neck. Right?
She suddenly wasn’t so sure.
After all, she had lost control a few times.
Cai Ying’s expression turned serious. “Just be careful. I entrusted Shu Shu to your care. You have to protect her.”
“I know,” Xu Jinnan replied, understanding her concern.
Knowing Xu Jinnan’s presence would be comforting for Shen Shu, Cai Ying grabbed her bag and was about to leave when she remembered something. “I forgot to tell Shu Shu to apply the ointment before going to bed. Make sure she uses it,” she said, pointing at the bag on the coffee table.
“I will,” Xu Jinnan replied.
After Cai Ying left, she examined the contents of the bag – a tube of bruise relief ointment and some herbal supplements.
—
Shen Shu slept until 5 p.m., then woke up with no appetite, so Xu Jinnan made her a simple bowl of noodles.
After dinner, Shen Shu went to the bathroom to wash up, then returned to the bedroom.
Xu Jinnan, seeing her weariness, gently coaxed her out of bed. “Shu Shu.”
“Xu Jinnan, I’m tired,” she murmured, her voice hoarse and slightly whiny, the tone strangely endearing.
“…Just apply the ointment first,” Xu Jinnan said patiently.
Shen Shu, her head resting on the pillow, pushed Xu Jinnan’s hand away, a flicker of annoyance in her eyes.
“Doesn’t it hurt? Those bruises won’t heal on their own. The ointment will help,” Xu Jinnan said, amused by Shen Shu’s childish behavior.
Seeing her refuse to move, she leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Be a good girl and put on the ointment.”
Shen Shu’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, looking at Xu Jinnan, then unbuttoned the top button of her pajama top, the fabric slipping down slightly.
“Go ahead,” she said softly.
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