After Cat A Saved the Wrong Female Lead - Chapter 46

Chapter 46: The Distance Left

The next morning, Tang Li woke before Qin Shiyang.

She didn’t move at first.

Just lay there, eyes open, watching the ceiling as light crept slowly through the curtains.

She could hear the soft, steady rhythm of breathing beside her.

Even that felt… delicate.

Like sound you could break if you listened too hard.

….

When she finally sat up, she didn’t disturb anything.

Didn’t touch the blanket. Didn’t adjust the pillow.

She just slipped off the edge of the sofa and walked quietly into the kitchen.

She made breakfast.

Something simple: eggs, rice, soup.

Not because anyone asked.

But because she wanted the silence to taste like something warm.

….

Qin Shiyang entered a little later.

Her hair was still damp from washing, her sleeves pushed up, eyes quiet but clear.

She paused at the kitchen doorway, watching Tang Li’s back.

Then said softly:
“You didn’t have to.”

Tang Li didn’t turn around.
“I know.”

A beat.

Then, without looking at her, Tang Li added,
“But I wanted to.”

….

They ate in near silence.

Just the sound of chopsticks against porcelain. The soft clink of bowls being moved.

It wasn’t uncomfortable.

But it wasn’t quite comfortable either.

There was something in the air—something unspoken, lingering.

Qin Shiyang noticed.

But she didn’t push.

Didn’t ask.

She waited.

And Tang Li, for once, didn’t offer.

….

After the meal, Tang Li began washing dishes.

Qin Shiyang leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

Then said quietly,
“You used to flinch when I walked into a room.”

Tang Li kept her eyes on the water.

“I know.”

“You don’t anymore.”

Tang Li paused.
Then, softly:
“You don’t feel like danger anymore.”

A long silence.

Then Qin Shiyang asked,
“And what do I feel like now?”

Tang Li turned off the tap.

Set the bowl down gently.

Then looked at her.

Direct. Unwavering.

“Like someone I don’t want to lose.”

….

Qin Shiyang didn’t respond.

Didn’t reach for her.

Didn’t look away.

But something in her expression shifted—barely visible.

As if a door had opened, just slightly.

Not enough to step through.

But enough to feel the air change.

….

Some words aren’t meant to be answered.

Only held.

And in that moment—

That single, fragile moment—

Qin Shiyang held them.

Quietly.

Carefully.

As if they might dissolve if she touched them too fast.