Goddess, Are You Blind? (GL) - Chapter 3

That bowl of hot soup, though left sitting for a short while, hadn’t cooled much in the summer heat. Xue Funian was only wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt and loose shorts, so most of the soup splashed directly onto her bare thighs, leaving angry red marks.

Ji Yun quickly pulled her into the bathroom, turned on the cold water, and dabbed at the scalded skin. She then rushed back to the kitchen, grabbed all the ice from the fridge, and hurried back to press it against Xue Funian’s legs.

After this flurry of action, Ji Yun finally saw the redness gradually fade and let out a breath of relief. But the air between them was heavy with awkwardness; neither of them spoke first.

“I know you’re upset, that you still can’t accept this. But A’nian, what you carry now is not only your own life. The moment you stepped into ‘Jiang’, you also took on the company’s future.”

Ji Yun gave her no room to breathe. She’d wanted to bring this up back when Xue Funian was still in the hospital. At the time, Xue Funian couldn’t see, and though she didn’t cry in front of her, Ji Yun knew—she didn’t believe it, she refused to accept all that had happened.

But no matter the disbelief, what happened had happened. Now that she was the one standing out front, she had to bear it fully. These were things Ji Yun could not take on for her.

Xue Funian’s vacant, empty gaze “looked” at Ji Yun. Ji Yun met her eyes; the girl’s delicate face flushed bright red at her words, and she bit her lip hard, refusing to say a word.

The harmony of their earlier meal was swept away, replaced by a sharp, tense atmosphere.

Only when Ji Yun saw bl00d welling from the pale lips did she panic. She quickly held Xue Funian’s face steady, pressing her fingertip lightly against her lips. Feeling the gentle friction there, Xue Funian froze for a moment, then slowly relaxed her teeth.

Ji Yun sighed softly and carefully wiped away the bl00d. The intimate touch, the gentle rub, erased much of Xue Funian’s bitterness, and she lowered her head.

“Tomorrow morning I have to go out for a bit. Will you be alright here alone?” Ji Yun asked, trying to ease the awkwardness with a smile—only halfway through realizing that Xue Funian couldn’t see it.

Hearing her change the subject, Xue Funian quietly exhaled and nodded, though she still said nothing.

“A’nian.” Ji Yun gently guided her back to the living room, crouched down in front of her, and looked at her seriously. “Whatever’s in your heart—tell me. If you need anything, or feel anything, you can tell me. Don’t worry. It’ll all be okay.”

Xue Funian tilted her head slightly, as though to see the person in front of her, but in vain.

She had only met Ji Yun a few times before, and could hardly recall her face clearly. She could only rely on memory to imagine what kind of expression Ji Yun wore now.

She remembered that Ji Yun was very beautiful, though the exact details escaped her.

She pictured Ji Yun in her mind: smiling faintly at her from the shadows.

Xue Funian remembered how nervous she had been that day, standing on stage, back stiff with tension, clutching her script as she stumbled through the lines. Several times she nearly bit her tongue, panic threatening to overwhelm her.

But when she finished and stepped down, she looked up—and saw that faint smile.

It wasn’t mocking. It carried encouragement, even admiration. Xue Funian might have forgotten Ji Yun’s features, but she never forgot that smile.

Later at the company, she heard the familiar voice again, and saw that same smile. Though no longer brimming with encouragement or admiration, it still carried warmth. That alone was enough for Xue Funian to recognize Ji Yun.

Ji Yun’s smiling face grew blurry, until the world turned pitch black. With a start, Xue Funian woke.

She touched her own face, then carefully felt around her surroundings, realizing at last it had only been a dream.

She fumbled at her bedside for her phone, but couldn’t find it. With no other choice, she got out of bed, not knowing whether it was night or already morning. She sighed softly, then stretched her hands out and groped her way out of the room.

Because of her blindness, Ji Yun had already rearranged her room with care—leaving only a bed and a wardrobe, so she wouldn’t bump into sharp corners.

Xue Funian groped her way into Ji Yun’s room, too flustered to knock. She searched blindly until her knee smacked hard against the bedframe, making her gasp in pain.

Ji Yun was a light sleeper. She sat up at once, turned on the bedside lamp, and saw Xue Funian standing there with a pained expression, teeth clenched.

Shaking her head, Ji Yun hurried down from the bed to grab her arm. “What happened? Why are you here?”

At the sound of her voice, Xue Funian finally let out a small breath. But then she grew embarrassed, her cheeks warming.

Ji Yun didn’t notice. She guided her to the bed and examined her knee—it was already reddened from the impact. Seeing it filled her with distress.

“Why don’t you sleep here tonight? It’ll be easier for me to look after you.”

As she spoke, Ji Yun busied herself with making up the bed. She didn’t know why Xue Funian had come in the middle of the night, but guessed it was either a dream or just a need to make sure Ji Yun was still there.

Xue Funian realized Ji Yun had seen through her thoughts and stopped pretending. Blushing, she nodded. “I thought morning had already come, so I wanted to see if you were here… Sorry…”

Her voice grew softer at the end, but Ji Yun didn’t mind. She helped her lie down, then circled to the other side and lay beside her.

By now, Ji Yun’s drowsiness had nearly gone. She glanced at her phone—it was only past four, still too early. She turned to look at Xue Funian.

Xue Funian slept properly, lying flat with hands folded neatly on her stomach.

Ji Yun smiled faintly. Few people slept so primly.

“Sis, are you asleep?”

Xue Funian’s voice came. Ji Yun hummed in reply. Xue Funian rolled onto her side, facing her.

“Can’t sleep?” Ji Yun asked in a low, husky voice, still rough from sleep.

Xue Funian opened her eyes, but since she couldn’t see anyway, she quickly closed them again.

“Big sister, if you have time… could you help me find a reliable caretaker?”

Her voice was soft, almost melting in Ji Yun’s ears.

“Oh? You think I’m not taking good enough care of you?” Ji Yun arched an amused brow, seeing right through her.

Flustered, Xue Funian shook her head furiously.

“That’s not what I meant…”

Ji Yun felt she was teasing the girl too much. She smiled faintly, shifted closer, and patted her back gently.

“Don’t overthink it. I’m here. Sleep.”

Xue Funian wanted to argue, but could only swallow her words.

She had brought it up before, more than once, but Ji Yun always brushed it off, saying she’d take care of her herself.

But with such a fat piece of meat in her hands—the company shares—anyone would want a bite.

So to Xue Funian, it was no small matter. No matter how kind Ji Yun seemed, she knew human greed was unpredictable.

“A’nian, that piece of meat you hold is too rich. Right now, I can’t stomach it, so I won’t reach for it. But if one day I can… then no matter how you guard against me, it’ll be useless.”

Ji Yun’s low, husky words cut into the dark.

Xue Funian turned toward her instinctively, though she saw nothing but black.

Ji Yun patted her back gently. “I won’t do ugly things like tricking or stealing. Believe me, alright?”

Xue Funian burst into laughter.

Under the glow of the bedside lamp, Ji Yun saw her smile—eyes curved like crescent moons, lively and beautiful despite their blindness.

Ji Yun’s mood lightened at the sight. She smiled too.

“So what Sis means is… if one day you can stomach it, you’ll just… take it away from me?” Xue Funian teased. She had wanted to say “snatch,” but softened it.

“By then, you’ll be the one to give it to me,” Ji Yun answered, full of confidence, leaving Xue Funian dazed.

Then she smiled too, finally putting her heart at ease. Ji Yun’s word was worth trusting.

And she wasn’t wrong: if Ji Yun truly had the ability to grow the company, then Xue Funian—blind as she was—would have no choice but to let go.

After all, the other shareholders were all sly and cunning. She clutched her shares tightly, unwilling to yield a bit.

“A’nian, go to sleep.” Ji Yun’s voice softened as her hand slowed to a stop.

Xue Funian blinked. That patting motion felt just like soothing a child. Curling closer to Ji Yun, she finally drifted off.