After Being Forced to Kiss My Superior (GL) - Chapter 16
Li Wanqiu wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but she wasn’t a heavy drinker either. A glass or two wouldn’t get her drunk—at most, it would leave her a little dizzy and warm inside.
Song Yu hadn’t had anything to drink that night and hadn’t driven, so she offered to be the designated driver and take both Li Wanqiu and Yan Weiwei home.
“Wanqiu, do you mind if I drop Weiwei off first?” Song Yu asked, sounding slightly helpless. “I really can’t handle her on my own right now.”
“Who are you calling drunk?”
The moment she heard that, Yan Weiwei straightened up defiantly.
“A couple drinks don’t count! Don’t stop me—I’m totally ready for the next round.”
“Alright, alright.”
Wanqiu smiled, her voice soft as she humored her,
“You’re the toughest one here.”
“But maybe save it for next time—it’s getting late.”
She gently tugged on Weiwei’s sleeve, coaxing her back into her seat. Then she looked at Song Yu and quietly added,
“It’s fine. Go ahead.”
“Got it.”
Song Yu nodded and made a turn at the next intersection.
It really was late. The roads were mostly empty, and Song Yu drove quickly. In less than twenty minutes, they arrived at Weiwei’s place. After a bit of a struggle getting her into bed, Song Yu came back down.
“You okay?” she asked Wanqiu.
“I’m fine,” Li Wanqiu replied, shaking her head lightly.
“Really.”
“That’s good.”
Song Yu started the car again, then hesitated for a moment before finally asking,
“Did something happen with your family again?”
Li Wanqiu raised her eyebrows slightly.
“How did you know?”
“Guan Chun called me,” Song Yu said calmly.
“She said you’ve been in a bad mood lately and asked us to talk to you, see if we could help.”
Of course. Guan Chun again.
“Oh.”
Wanqiu gave a short reply. She didn’t say more, but her brows slowly drew together.
“I turned her down,” Song Yu said as she glanced into the rearview mirror.
“We’re all busy with our own lives. I barely have time to sort out my own problems—let alone someone else’s. Same goes for her.”
“Thank you.”
Wanqiu nodded gently, her voice quiet.
Weiwei’s place wasn’t far from Wanqiu’s. While they were talking, they had already arrived. Song Yu pulled into the parking lot, called a taxi, and waved goodbye.
“Be careful on your way home,” Wanqiu said, watching as the car drove off. Only then did she turn around and head inside. As she walked, she unlocked her phone and found Guan Chun’s contact.
No matter what kind of problems existed between her and her parents, it was still a family matter. There was no need to make it public, no matter what Guan Chun’s intentions were.
She typed calmly:
“Are you there? I’m fine. Please don’t call my friends again. I don’t like it.”
The message was sent. A moment later, a reply came in.
Guan Chun:
“Did I cause trouble for you? I’m sorry.”
Guan Chun:
“I just feel a little guilty. I hate seeing you argue with Uncle and Auntie.”
Guan Chun:
“They really are doing what they think is best for you. Maybe you should try to understand their intentions.”
Guan Chun:
“Wanqiu, you’re the one in the wrong. Just apologize to them, okay?”
“……”
One message after another, relentless and unending.
Li Wanqiu stared silently at the screen. She had expected Guan Chun might try to lecture her, but she hadn’t anticipated that one line—“You’re the one who’s wrong”—would sting so sharply. The wine she’d drunk earlier started churning in her stomach, making her feel uncomfortably nauseous.
Still, she forced down the uneasy feeling and pressed the voice message button.
“Guan Chun.”
There was a pause on the other end. “What?”
Li Wanqiu frowned.
“If I said anything that upset you, I’ll apologize first.”
“But…” Her voice suddenly shifted, sharp and direct.
“You’re seriously annoying. Stop it already.”
With that, she added Guan Chun to her block list.
No more messages came through.
Wanqiu let out a long sigh and loosened the tension in her brow.
“Finally.”
The world went quiet again.
Freshly picked grapes had a wonderfully clean, sweet scent.
Early the next morning, Li Wanqiu went with Ji Jinyan to the winemaking workshop. Watching the team remove stems and sort through the grapes piqued her curiosity, and she asked if she could give it a try.
“It’s not easy,” Ji Jinyan said, glancing at her with a slight tilt of her head. There was a teasing note in her voice.
“Think you can handle it?”
Her tone was light, playful—half joking.
“Of course I can.”
Li Wanqiu nodded, feeling oddly competitive. She turned to a staff member nearby, borrowed a pair of gloves and an apron, and jumped right in.
“Don’t look down on me.”
Her hands were delicate and elegant—fair skin, slender fingers—whatever she did, her movements looked effortlessly graceful.
Ji Jinyan watched as Wanqiu followed the team’s steps carefully. She started by picking out loose stems, then searched through the pile for the best-looking grapes like she was on a treasure hunt. She gathered them in front of her, removing the stems one by one with impressive care.
Every movement was serious and focused. Even though it was her first time, she wasn’t falling behind at all.
Before long, the little basket beside her had already filled up into a small, neat pile.
Ji Jinyan smiled slightly. For a moment, she remembered all the things she’d once heard about Li Wanqiu—words tossed around casually: unfocused, lazy, doesn’t work well with others, hard to get along with.
She had sounded like the kind of person most people would avoid without a second thought.
But hearing things secondhand is never the same as seeing them with your own eyes.
“Li Wanqiu,” Ji Jinyan said with a soft smile, raising her phone and aiming the camera at her.
“Say hi.”
“…Huh?”
Wanqiu looked up, momentarily caught off guard.
“What are you doing?”
“Just capturing the moment,” Ji Jinyan said.
“This year’s grape harvest is really good, and everyone’s working hard. We should post something on social media to show it off.”
She paused, then added gently, “Is that okay with you?”
“I mean, sure,”
Li Wanqiu nodded. Since Ji Jinyan owned the vineyard, it made perfect sense for her to share videos related to it. Still, once she realized she was actually being filmed, she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous.
She paused, then turned slightly and asked the woman next to her,
“Auntie, is there anything on my face?”
“No, no,” the middle-aged woman smiled kindly and gently patted her hand.
“You look lovely, dear.”
“You’re very lovely too.”
Wanqiu smiled back politely, then turned to glance at Ji Jinyan again before going back to carefully sorting her grapes.
A moment later, as if something had just occurred to her, she looked up again and said quietly,
“Let’s do it again. Can we delete the first one?”
Her voice was soft—barely above a whisper.
Ji Jinyan stopped recording, pressed save, and nodded with a smile.
“Alright.”
After recording the video, Ji Jinyan turned and went to check on the progress of the other workstations.
Li Wanqiu stayed where she was, continuing with her task while occasionally glancing over, waiting for her to return. Her back began to ache, so she straightened up to rest for a moment.
That’s when something caught her eye.
A small bird had landed nearby, right in the vineyard.
Bixia was located on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by a vast vineyard, so it wasn’t unusual to see animals now and then. Some she could name, others she couldn’t—like the one she was seeing now.
Even though she didn’t know what it was called, that didn’t stop her from finding it beautiful. Her eyes stayed on the bird until the very moment it flew away.
She hadn’t even noticed when Ji Jinyan returned.
“Back to work,” Ji Jinyan said softly as she lowered her gaze to inspect the grapes Wanqiu had sorted.
“You did well.”
“Thank you.”
Wanqiu smiled, accepting the compliment graciously. She handed her gloves and gear back to the staff and walked out of the workshop alongside Ji Jinyan.
“Tired?” Ji Jinyan asked.
“A little,” Wanqiu admitted, then added,
“But it was really interesting. I got to talk to everyone and learned a lot of new things.”
“Oh, right—”
She suddenly remembered the bird she’d seen in the vineyard and turned to share it with Ji Jinyan.
Worried Ji Jinyan wouldn’t be able to picture it clearly, she quickly pulled out her phone and showed her a simple sketch she had drawn.
“It was really beautiful,” she said.
“It was,” Ji Jinyan agreed, looking down at the screen. Her hair was caught by the breeze, brushing softly across Wanqiu’s cheek. It tickled.
Wanqiu gave a small cough and felt her cheeks grow warm.
“Right?”
“Mhm.”
Ji Jinyan nodded, a clear smile playing at the corners of her lips.
“The drawing is beautiful.”
Wanqiu blinked.
She had been talking about the bird—but Ji Jinyan was praising the sketch.
Caught off guard, Wanqiu looked up at her. It was such a simple doodle, but Ji Jinyan’s compliment felt sincere, unexpectedly so.
It made Wanqiu feel happy—touched, even. She wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“…Thank you,” she said softly.
Then, Ji Jinyan turned to look at her.
Wanqiu paused.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
Ji Jinyan smiled and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a small piece of chocolate and handed it over.
Wanqiu looked down.
It was the same kind—pink packaging, sparkly foil, the exact type she’d seen before. The same one Ji Jinyan had said was for her little niece.
“You bought more?” Wanqiu asked as she took it, a bit curious.
“Still using it to bribe kids?”
Ji Jinyan’s eyes sparkled with quiet amusement.
“Exactly.”
She said it with a slow, warm smile.