It’s About You (GL High H) - Chapter 3

Wanqi Lang animatedly recounted the tale, describing Shen Zhiwei’s entrance as if she were a deity descending from heaven and delivering the three words “girlfriend” with epic grandeur. Zhou Yang listened with repeated gasps of surprise, grabbing Jiang Nian to demand details.

“Sister Lang!” Jiang Nian could no longer stand the exaggerated duo; her face burned hot.

“I’m going outside for some air.” With that, she rose almost as if fleeing and pushed through the crowd, hurrying toward the bar’s entrance.

Wanqi Lang tsked twice: “Even her escape pose is so alike.”

Less than two minutes later, Shen Zhiwei sent a message: Let’s go grab something to eat; you all have fun.

Wanqi Lang glanced at it and held up her phone, saying with utter exasperation: “See that, Yangyang? That’s what ‘favoring a lover over friends’ means, that’s ‘forgetting righteousness for beauty.’ She just claimed her girlfriend and already whisked her away! Not even a proper goodbye—just a message to brush us off.” She pointed at the phone, addressing the wide-eyed Zhou Yang with a face full of “Holy sh1t, this is explosive.”

Zhou Yang nodded vigorously like pounding garlic, putting on a heartbroken expression: “Exactly, exactly. Jiang Nian, that friend-forgetter—once she has President Shen, she forgets her sisters. Punish them both to treat next time, and it has to be a big meal.”

Wanqi Lang patted Zhou Yang’s shoulder, laughing until she shook: “Right, right, make them treat.”

After some laughter and noise, Zhou Yang checked the time and realized it was getting late, so she bid Wanqi Lang farewell and left to catch a cab.

Wanqi Lang’s mood had improved considerably; the earlier frustration from her parents ditching her had been scattered by this juicy gossip. She hummed a little tune, hands behind her back, strolling around the shop, adding snacks to one table, recommending a new cocktail to another.

The phone in her pocket vibrated fiercely again.

Wanqi Lang’s smile had not yet faded; with casual indifference, she pulled out her phone—the screen still showed Weiwei Jiang.

[Your ex-girlfriend lost control emotionally at the restaurant and came after me; come quick to clean up.]

Followed by a location pin.

Wanqi Lang: “…”

She stared at the screen, stunned for a full three seconds, as if she did not recognize those words. Then, a surge of irritation rushed from her soles to the top of her head.

“Fvck!”

The restaurant was very close to the bar; five minutes later, a familiar click of high heels sounded at the entrance.

Wanqi Lang appeared at the door, her face devoid of its usual playful grin, replaced by deep weariness. As soon as she entered, she looked at the sobbing Chen Zui and let out a heavy sigh.

She strode over quickly, right to Chen Zui’s side, bent down, and gently placed one hand on her heaving shoulder, her voice low and a bit helpless: “Chen Zui, don’t make a scene here.”

Chen Zui heard her voice and lifted her head; her makeup was ruined by tears, her eyes full of grievance: “Why won’t you talk to me? Why are you avoiding me? I…” She reached to grab Wanqi Lang’s hand.

Wanqi Lang deftly avoided her touch but softened her voice even more, soothing: “All right, all right. Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it back home. Crying and causing a fuss here won’t solve anything and will just make us a laughingstock.” She pulled out a tissue and handed it to Chen Zui. “Wipe your face and come with me, okay?”

Her tone was like soothing a puffed-up, injured cat.

Chen Zui looked at her, touched by the familiar gentleness; her sobs gradually quieted, and she obediently took the tissue to wipe her face.

Only then did Wanqi Lang straighten up and turn to Shen Zhiwei and Jiang Nian with a wry smile, spreading her hands: “All right, won’t disturb your sweet time anymore. I’ll take her off your hands; next time you come, drinks on me.”

She said no more, just gave a look.

Shen Zhiwei nodded, signaling understanding; as longtime friends, they were very in sync.

“Come on.” Wanqi Lang extended her hand. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk it out slowly back home.”

Chen Zui gave her a resentful glance and silently stood, grasping Wanqi Lang’s outstretched arm with both hands, like clutching a lifeline.

Wanqi Lang steadily supported her—or rather, half-carried her—shuffling toward the door in an awkward pose, step by step.

Chen Zui leaned against Wanqi Lang, head buried low; her back view was full of desolation.

The night’s slightly cool air hit them in the face, and Wanqi Lang let out a long breath, feeling exhaustion seep into her very bones. She adjusted Chen Zui a bit to the side, trying to get her to stand on her own.

“Okay, out with it, ancestor. Late at night, drinking so much and causing a scene in front of Zhiwei—what the hell are you trying to…”

The last word had not left her mouth when Chen Zui, who had been limply leaning against her moments ago, suddenly summoned strength from somewhere, spun around, seized her shoulders, and shoved Wanqi Lang backward hard.

Wanqi Lang was caught off guard; her back slammed heavily into the wall, the impact drawing a muffled grunt from her as her vision blackened and her shoulder blades throbbed with intense pain.

Before the pain could subside, Chen Zui’s body pressed up against hers, carrying the thick scent of alcohol and the bitter taste of tears.

Wanqi Lang had no time to push her away; Chen Zui’s face loomed rapidly in front of hers, and the next second, a scorching kiss sealed Wanqi Lang’s lips.

“Mm,” Wanqi Lang’s pupils dilated, her mind going blank.

Shock was the instinctive first reaction. Following close behind was the physiological familiarity stirred by this intimate breath.

The soft yet forceful touch of Chen Zui’s lips conveyed that once-intensely intimate warmth, like dry tinder tossed into a fire, igniting a dangerous spark under the stimulation.

Wanqi Lang’s body slackened slightly; her breathing grew heavy, and a heat flow surged within her body pressed against the cold wall, involuntarily responding to the kiss for a brief moment.

Chen Zui’s kiss deepened; one hand still gripped Wanqi Lang’s shoulder tightly, while the other began to wander downward restlessly.

That cool hand, like a snake, slipped over the shirt fabric inside her suit, touching the skin at Wanqi Lang’s waist, probing under her shirt hem to caress her smooth back.

The icy touch of her fingertips instantly doused the fire of desire in Wanqi Lang’s body.

“No!”

A low roar issued from Wanqi Lang’s throat; she summoned all her strength, grabbed Chen Zui’s rampant hand—her grip so tight it nearly crushed the wrist bone—and shoved Chen Zui’s shoulder hard with her other hand.

“Get off!” Wanqi Lang’s voice was hoarse. Chen Zui staggered back several steps from the push, nearly falling; she looked at her with grievance, seeing only icy disgust and fury in the other’s eyes.

Wanqi Lang panted heavily; her back burned with fiery pain from the impact. She raised her hand and rubbed her lips forcefully with her sleeve, nearly chafing the skin.

“Chen Zui, have you fucking lost your mind?”

“I…” Chen Zui tried to explain but was intimidated by the chill in Wanqi Lang’s eyes.

“Done making a scene? You made a fuss in front of Zhiwei, at the restaurant, and now you’re going crazy on the street—what the hell do you want? What do you take me for?!”

Wanqi Lang pointed at her swollen lips, her fingers trembling with anger: “Is this how you solve problems? By gnawing with your mouth? By groping with your hands? Look at yourself—what do you look like right now!”

“I…” Chen Zui trembled all over, her face ashen as paper.

“Shut up!” Wanqi Lang cut her off sharply. “I’m telling you one last time: I don’t want to see you again. That rotten past is completely over. Whether you drank alcohol or took crazy pills today, cut it out.”

With that, she pulled out her phone and tapped on the ride-hailing app: “Now, right now, get the fvck out of here. Don’t show up in front of me again, and don’t harass my friends anymore!”

Chen Zui looked at her resolute expression, at the marks she had left on her lips, at the wrinkled collar she had rumpled; her last bit of strength drained away. Like a punctured balloon, she slid softly to the ground, hugging her knees and emitting silent sobs.

Wanqi Lang turned without hesitation and strode away; her high heels struck the ground with firm sounds as the night swallowed her still-fuming silhouette.

After walking a dozen meters, Wanqi Lang stopped. She leaned against the wall, fumbled the cigarette case from her pocket—her fingers still unsteady, taking some effort to shake out a cigarette and light it.

She took a deep drag, the acrid smoke flooding her lungs, bringing a numbing sting. She raised her hand, thumb rubbing over her swollen, stinging lips once more, her gaze dark and inscrutable as she stared into the heavy night ahead.