I Turned Out to Be the Dead White Moonlight of the Canary - Chapter 32

Song Shi’an and Yan Sheng arrived just as Yan Wuyou pulled up.

 

However, she hadn’t come by car—instead, she rode in on a motorcycle.

 

Watching her gracefully dismount the bike, Song Shi’an gave her a disdainful eye-roll.

 

It wasn’t hard to imagine her weaving aggressively through gridlocked traffic during rush hour, undoubtedly drawing curses from frustrated drivers along the way.

 

“Told you I wouldn’t be late.”

 

Song Shi’an chuckled. “No worries, just a few demerit points. No big deal, right?”

 

Yan Wuyou flashed her a smile. “No need for concern—I kept exactly to the speed limit. Not a single point lost.”

 

“Plus, I took back alleys. That’s the beauty of riding—you can slip through any narrow lane.”

 

Song Shi’an had no rebuttal. She couldn’t deny the truth of that.

 

“Though honestly, that damn navigation app is downright malicious. I noticed a sedan following me—probably got routed into that alley too after seeing me take it.”

 

Yan Sheng couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the hapless driver who’d trailed Yan Wuyou.

 

“Ugh, so annoying. Spent forever styling my hair before leaving, and now the helmet ruined everything,” Yan Wuyou grumbled.

 

“Serves you right,” Song Shi’an gloated.

 

Yan Sheng let out a quiet laugh, then reached over to smooth Yan Wuyou’s disheveled hair.

 

Without waiting, Song Shi’an wheeled herself inside alone.

 

Watching her retreating figure, Yan Wuyou mused, “Little Yan Sheng… you think she’s jealous?”

 

Yan Sheng shook her head. “Probably not?”

 

She doubted her sister cared that much. Besides, she’d only helped because Yan Wuyou had been struggling with her hair—surely that meant nothing?

 

Still, caution prompted Yan Sheng to jog after Song Shi’an. “Sis, Wuyou didn’t tell us which floor. Should we wait for her?”

 

“Hn.” The neutral tone gave no clues, leaving Yan Sheng afraid to press further.

 

After tossing her keys to a valet, Yan Wuyou sauntered over.

 

“What’s the rush? We’re still early,” she complained.

 

Song Shi’an shot her a look. “Says the one who kept nagging me to hurry up earlier?”

 

“Name one time you haven’t been late before,” Yan Wuyou retorted, dragging up old grievances.

 

“Like you’re any better with punctuality.”

 

Yan Sheng finally understood—these two were equally unreliable, the epitome of mutually flaky friends.

 

“Does Yuandong-jie always leave early then?” Yan Sheng asked curiously.

 

“She’s the one organizing every gathering. Who else would get there first?” Song Shi’an said matter-of-factly.

 

Yan Wuyou nodded. “Exactly.”

 

Something about this felt off to Yan Sheng.

 

The elevator arrived, carrying them to the thirty-second floor.

 

Not excessively high, but the view was splendid. Any higher, and the fireworks wouldn’t look as impressive from the premium rooms.

 

The spacious private dining room featured three glass walls. Even without fireworks, the nighttime cityscape would be breathtaking.

 

Yan Sheng guided Song Shi’an to a sofa by the panoramic windows.

 

Yan Wuyou turned on the music directly.

 

“Little Yansheng, there’s an art exhibition coming up soon. Want to go together?” Yan Wuyou asked bluntly.

 

Yansheng glanced at Song Shi’an.

 

Meeting her inquiring gaze, Song Shi’an replied indifferently, “Why look at me? I’m not interested in these things. Go if you want—I won’t stop you. I’ve told you, you’re free.”

 

Yan Wuyou shook her head from the side. Song Shi’an really was a block of wood.

 

“No rush. I’ll send you some details about the exhibition later so you can decide,” Yan Wuyou said amiably.

 

Soon after, the room’s smart system asked if they wanted their meal served now.

 

Yan Wuyou had already ordered the dishes when she booked the room.

 

“What about you two? Eat now?” she asked for their opinion.

 

“Sure,” Song Shi’an nodded. Even at home, this would be their usual mealtime.

 

Yan Wuyou took a bottle of wine from the cabinet. The place was exorbitantly priced for a night, but the offerings were indeed top-notch.

 

“Care for a drink?” she asked.

 

Song Shi’an nodded. “Of course. Why not?”

 

Yan Wuyou then looked at Yansheng, who also nodded. “Sure, thank you, Wuyou-jie.”

 

“No need for formalities.”

 

Though not her first time here, Song Shi’an was curious. “Did you book this place just to invite the two of us out?”

 

Yan Wuyou cleared her throat. “I originally invited other friends too, including Zhu Yuandong, but she’s busy and couldn’t make it.”

 

“And your other friends?” Song Shi’an took a sip of wine, teasing.

 

“Don’t tell me your other ‘friend’ is that temperamental artist?” Song Shi’an wasn’t letting her off.

 

Yan Wuyou shot her an annoyed glare. “Yes, yes, you know everything. So annoying.”

 

“I told you to let go long ago, but you wouldn’t listen. Not that I discriminate against lesbians, but she’s clearly stringing you along. Can’t that thick skull of yours wake up?”

 

“She wants an exhibition—you fund it. She wants to study art abroad—you send her. And in the end? ‘Good friends.'”

 

Listening to Song Shi’an’s exasperated rant, Yansheng’s eyes widened slightly. She hadn’t realized the person Yan Wuyou was pursuing was like this.

 

Had she known, she wouldn’t have helped with advice earlier.

 

Yan Wuyou gloomily downed her entire glass.

 

“What’s so great about her? Even the underprivileged students I sponsored knew to show gratitude. Has she ever thanked you?”

 

“You have so many wonderful ‘sisters’—any one of them would be better. You admire her talent; she admires your wallet.”

 

It was the first time Yansheng had heard Song Shi’an criticize someone so harshly.

 

“Enough, enough! Song Shi’an, you’re so annoying.” Yan Wuyou poured herself another glass.

 

“I’ve figured it out now. I really was feeding an ungrateful wolf. Won’t happen again.”

 

Song Shi’an gave her a surprised look. “You’d better mean it. You always say that.”

 

“If I don’t, may my paintings never sell again,” Yan Wuyou declared fiercely.

 

Song Shi’an sighed at her despondent expression. “No need to go that far. She’s just a woman—is it worth it?”

 

Unsure how to comfort her, Yansheng could only join her in drinking.

 

Before long, the restaurant’s robot knocked to deliver their meal. Yansheng opened the door to let it in.

 

The robot efficiently served the dishes and promptly left.

 

The three of them sat at the table for dinner. After two glasses of wine, Yan Wuyou couldn’t help but start venting about that female omega.

 

She really was shameless—not only taking Yan Wuyou’s money but also stringing along several people at once, all just to scam them.

 

Song Shi’an had no intention of comforting her. As Yan Wuyou ranted, she matched the bitterness with her own sharp tongue.

 

“No wonder you’re blind. How could you miss something so obvious? Have you ever had good judgment even once in all these years?”

 

She savagely mocked Yan Wuyou between bites of the crab Yan Sheng had peeled for her.

 

Yan Sheng could only squeeze in a few words of comfort here and there.

 

But comforting Yan Wuyou inevitably meant being dragged into drinking with her.

 

Before Yan Sheng realized it, she had drunk a bit too much. Once she started feeling slightly dizzy, she consciously slowed down.

 

By the time dinner ended, the fireworks display was about to begin.

 

As the first fireworks lit up the sky, Yan Sheng immediately turned to look.

 

Seeing her staring blankly out the window, Song Shi’an said to Yan Wuyou, “Alright, enough about your blind past. Tonight, I’ll take you to Zhu Yuandong’s bar and get you ten or eight pretty omegas to keep you company.”

 

“Deal. You said it.” Yan Wuyou actually agreed.

 

Song Shi’an had Yan Sheng push her wheelchair to the window. She wasn’t particularly interested—having traveled often, she’d seen enough of such displays.

 

Yan Sheng, however, was fascinated.

 

She kept exclaiming in admiration and even took out her phone to snap pictures.

 

Yan Wuyou sat on the viewing sofa, watching intently at first before eventually dozing off.

 

Neither Yan Sheng nor Song Shi’an noticed.

 

The fireworks were beautiful, and Yan Sheng took plenty of photos, including a few of Song Shi’an.

 

At first, she sneaked the shots, but when Song Shi’an caught her, she simply continued openly.

 

The results turned out well, so Song Shi’an let it slide.

 

As the show neared its end, Yan Sheng suddenly gathered her courage and asked, “Sister, do you want to take a photo together?”

 

Song Shi’an could see the nervous anticipation in her expression.

 

But she still refused. “No, I don’t like taking photos with people.”

 

[Liar. You took one with Gu Qinghe before—she even kissed your cheek.] Nineteen suddenly chimed in.

 

Yan Sheng was already disappointed, and hearing that only made it worse.

 

Song Shi’an averted her gaze. “Go ahead and enjoy it by yourself.”

 

With that, she maneuvered her wheelchair back to the sofa, leaving Yan Sheng standing alone by the floor-to-ceiling window.

 

Settling onto the couch, Song Shi’an checked her phone and saw several messages.

 

Her mother had even tried to video call, but since Song Shi’an had left her phone on the sofa—and kept it on silent as usual—she’d missed it.

 

Now that she noticed, she returned the call.

 

“Mom, what’s up?” Song Shi’an looked at the woman on the screen, appearing uncharacteristically alert.

 

“Nothing much. Just checking how your leg is doing. Can you walk yet?” The woman bore some resemblance to Song Shi’an but carried herself with far more gentleness.

 

“Yeah, I’ve been doing rehab properly lately. Should be back to normal soon.” Song Shi’an gave an honest update.

 

“That’s good. By the way, where are you?” Xun Zhiyun noticed the unfamiliar background and asked casually.

 

“Wuyou said there was a fireworks show tonight and invited us out to see it.”

 

“Are Wuyou and Yuandong with you?”

 

“No, Yuandong’s busy. It’s just me and Wuyou.” Song Shi’an remained well-behaved in front of her parents.

 

She knew all too well that beside her mother stood another cold and ruthless woman. Song Shi’an had been afraid of her mother since childhood.

 

Add to that the time when Shi’an’s rebellious phase was thoroughly disciplined, and she’d become much more obedient since.

 

“How was your outing? Did you have fun?” Not wanting further questions, Shi’an proactively changed the subject.

 

Yan Sheng heard everything—heard how Shi’an never once mentioned her throughout the call.

 

The fireworks outside had been beautiful, but now they didn’t seem quite as dazzling.

 

Sitting on the soft cushion, her eyes fell on the half-empty liquor bottle Yan Wuyou had left on the coffee table. Unable to resist, she poured herself another glass.

 

Yan Sheng knew she had no right to demand anything from Shi’an. Their statuses were inherently unequal.

 

Yet she couldn’t help feeling a pang of sadness.

 

By the time Shi’an finished her call, Yan Sheng had emptied the remaining half bottle.

 

Shi’an glanced at the empty bottle, then at Yan Sheng who was tilting her head to look at her.

 

“You drank it all?”

 

“Mhm.” Yan Sheng nodded obediently.

 

“Do you even know what this was?” Shi’an rubbed her temples.

 

“Knew. Drinkable.” Came the confident reply.

 

Shi’an studied her—aside from flushed cheeks, she seemed fine otherwise.

 

“Really not drunk?”

 

Yan Sheng nodded: “No need to worry, sis. My alcohol tolerance is decent—they tested it during my bar job interview.”

 

“Fine, let’s head back then.” Seeing her stand and walk normally, Shi’an reluctantly believed her.

 

Yan Sheng looked toward Yan Wuyou: “What about Wuyou-jie?”

 

“Her bodyguard’s outside. One shout and they’ll carry her back.”

 

Yan Sheng felt like she’d just gained new life knowledge.

 

“Oh…”

 

Watching her slightly dazed expression, Shi’an again doubted her sobriety.