After Being Forced to Kiss My Superior (GL) - Chapter 11

Autumn Li hadn’t exaggerated—the food was indeed delicious, and Ji Jinyan seemed to enjoy it too.

Seeing that it suited Ji Jinyan’s taste, Autumn finally relaxed. She lifted her wine glass and took a small sip. Even though she had said earlier that she could handle a few drinks, just to be safe, she stopped after only one.

She still felt a little embarrassed about constantly needing Ji Jinyan’s help.

After the meal, there was still plenty of time left. Remembering Ji Jinyan had said she was free the whole day, Autumn hesitated briefly, then pulled out her phone to look for something fun to do.

As it turned out, there was a movie theater nearby.

She glanced up at Ji Jinyan and asked,
“Are you… busy with work today? Would you want to go see a movie?”

“I’d like that,” Ji Jinyan nodded without hesitation.

“Great.” Autumn smiled, packed up her things, and walked to the front desk to pay—only to be told that someone had already covered the bill.

Autumn froze. “Ji Jinyan?” She turned, surprised. “Didn’t we agree I was treating you today?”

Ji Jinyan gave a light laugh.
“I just remembered I have a membership card here. I treated some clients at another branch before.”

She added casually, “Besides, I’m not really losing anything. You’re still treating me to a movie later, aren’t you?”

“…Fine,” Autumn sighed. “But this time, the movie’s on me—no arguments.”

“Okay,” Ji Jinyan agreed with a small smile and said nothing more.

It was Saturday afternoon, and kids were out of school. A few animated films had just been released, so most showtimes were packed.

Autumn checked the listings and found that the closest showing was already full. The next available time slot only had two options: an animated movie and a horror film.

Unfortunately, Autumn was a bit afraid of scary movies.

But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked over at Ji Jinyan and asked carefully,
“Between these two… is there one you’d rather see?”

Honestly, the answer felt obvious. Ji Jinyan was over thirty, professionally successful—it seemed unlikely she’d be interested in a cartoon. But just in case, Autumn asked anyway, like making one last effort.

Ji Jinyan turned to look at her. She didn’t respond right away.

Autumn felt a little nervous under the silence.
“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Ji Jinyan said softly, withdrawing her gaze. Then, after a moment, she pointed.
“Let’s watch this one.”

She was pointing at the animated film.

“Ji Jinyan…” Autumn blinked, surprised. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Ji Jinyan replied calmly. “I’ve seen this one mentioned online—it has pretty good reviews.”

Then she looked at Autumn again, her eyes smiling.
“Let’s just enjoy it.”

“…Alright.” Autumn nodded, clearly relieved that they wouldn’t be watching the horror film. She quickly walked off to buy the tickets, along with some popcorn and drinks. There was a clear, happy smile on her face.

“Let’s go~” she said cheerfully after returning.

“Sure,” Ji Jinyan replied, following her into the theater.

Once inside, Autumn glanced around. Sure enough, most of the audience were children.

Though, they weren’t the only adults there. In the row ahead of them, a young couple had taken their seats—but the atmosphere between them was tense. They were already bickering before the movie had even started.

Their voices were loud, hard to ignore.

Apparently, the couple had originally planned to watch the horror film. But the showtimes were close together, and the boyfriend had somehow booked the wrong tickets. It wasn’t until they went to pick them up that they realized the mistake.

After some back and forth, they ended up walking into the theater anyway.

The girlfriend was clearly frustrated. She slapped the boyfriend’s arm several times.
“What now, huh? What are we supposed to do?”

The boyfriend looked a little guilty.
“What else can we do? We’re already here… let’s just watch it…”

That only made her more upset.
“I just looked it up online! This movie only has a 6.1 rating! How can it possibly be good?!”

6.1.

Autumn Li paused and instinctively glanced at Ji Jinyan’s profile. She suddenly remembered what Ji Jinyan had said earlier—“It got good reviews.”

It didn’t take much to understand what she really meant. Ji Jinyan probably chose this movie not because she wanted to see it, but because she knew Autumn didn’t want to watch the horror film.

Realizing that, Autumn felt a little guilty.

But before she could say anything, the lights dimmed and the movie began.

She turned her gaze back to the screen. As the film played, she realized it wasn’t as bad as the reviews had made it out to be.

Yes, the storyline was a bit childish, but you could still tell the creators had put effort into it. Some of the scenes were surprisingly thoughtful. By the end, Autumn had even picked up a few meaningful lessons from it.

When the credits rolled, she turned to Ji Jinyan and asked,
“What did you think? Not too bad, right?”

Ji Jinyan didn’t answer her directly. Instead, she said,
“The main character reminded me of you.”

“…Me?” Autumn blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Ji Jinyan gave a small nod, then said nothing more. She simply walked beside her as they headed out of the theater.

Apparently, the cinema was running a small promotion. Everyone who watched that movie could receive a free gift—a headband shaped like the cat ears worn by the main character. They came in different colors and were clearly meant for kids.

At first, Autumn hadn’t planned to take one. But the staff member handing them out was so enthusiastic, she didn’t have the heart to say no.

She ended up with two: one pink, one yellow.

Turning to Ji Jinyan, she held out the pink one with a straight face.
“Here, take it. You can give it to a kid later.”

But before she could react, Ji Jinyan reached out and gently clipped the headband onto Autumn’s head.

“…What?” Autumn blinked, confused. “What are you doing?”

Ji Jinyan smiled, clearly enjoying herself.
“It suits you.”

“…Seriously?” Autumn looked helpless. She pulled out her phone and looked at herself—two little ears bounced with every step she took.
She looked kind of silly.

She froze for a second, then an idea flashed in her mind.

“Ji Jinyan,” she called.

As Ji Jinyan turned to look at her, Autumn took the yellow headband and clipped it onto her hair.

“It suits you too,” she said with a smirk. A spark of mischief danced in her eyes.

“Oh?” Ji Jinyan raised an eyebrow, amused. Then, mimicking Autumn’s earlier move, she lifted her phone and leaned slightly closer to her.

“Autumn Li,” she said softly, voice filled with teasing,
“Say cheese.”

“…What?” Autumn blinked, stunned. Her big eyes widened in surprise, and her clear gaze was full of flustered panic.

In that moment, time seemed to freeze.

After a full afternoon out, Autumn Li’s body was starting to feel a little tired.

She stepped into the shower and washed away the day, then slipped into bed feeling clean and comfortable. Just as she opened her phone and checked her feed, she saw a new post from Yan Weiwei.

The sky outside was already dim, and streetlights had started to glow. In the picture, Weiwei stood under one, taking a selfie with an exaggeratedly bitter expression.

Caption: “If I ever go out with Song Yu again, I’m a dog!”

Plenty of mutual friends had liked the post—many of whom had also joined the same outing. Scrolling through the comments, Autumn saw at least a dozen people echoing the same complaint.

Curious, she switched over to her chat with Yan Weiwei.
“What happened? Something go wrong?”

“YES!” came the almost instant reply, filled with dramatic frustration. “Song Yu took us hiking!”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Autumn replied. “Good exercise.”

“In theory, sure,” Weiwei typed back with a sigh. “The problem is he has no sense of direction! I don’t even know what kind of ridiculous mountain he picked—he’s the one who planned it, but he got lost first! We said east, he said west. He ended up leading us in circles forever.”

“Honestly, you were lucky not to come,” she added, clearly still bitter. “Next time, I’m not going. No matter what he says!”

It really did sound tragic.

Autumn couldn’t help laughing and sent several messages in a row trying to cheer her up. It took a bit, but eventually, Weiwei calmed down.

“So what about you?” she asked next. “Did you have fun with Director Ji today?”

“It was nice,” Autumn replied. She gave a quick summary of the day—though she deliberately left out the part about watching a cartoon movie.

Sure enough, Weiwei replied with envy.
“Sounds amazing.”

“Next time, I’ll invite you too,” Autumn offered.

“Deal,” Weiwei said, clearly cheered up.

Just as they were chatting, Weiwei’s ride arrived. She quickly said goodbye and hopped into the car.

Autumn closed the chat and, remembering that couple in the theater, decided to look up the movie’s rating out of curiosity.

It had gone up—from 6.1 to 6.3.

See? It really wasn’t that bad.

Autumn smiled and clicked into the comment section. Reviews were mixed—some praised the story, others found it lacking—but when it came to the main character, most people were kind. They thought the character was well done… and adorable.

Adorable.

Autumn paused, and a memory surfaced—something Ji Jinyan had said after the movie.
“The main character reminded me of you.”

Before she could think too much about it, her phone buzzed. A message from Ji Jinyan.

She opened it—it was the photo they’d taken earlier in the theater lobby.

Autumn tapped to enlarge it.

Despite how silly those cheaply made cat ear headbands were, somehow, they looked… kind of nice on Ji Jinyan. She stared at the picture for a moment longer. When she looked at herself beside her, she realized—maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

She was still looking at the photo when she noticed the faint curve of her own lips in the reflection of her screen.

Autumn froze.

It didn’t feel like her. Not exactly. The gentle lift at the corner of her mouth felt unfamiliar—almost like someone else had smiled for her.

Flustered, she tried to figure out why.

And eventually, she found her answer.

She must still be a little drunk.
It had to be the wine’s fault.