My Ex-Girlfriend Said She Was A Fairy - Chapter 9

Ji Qingyi opened WeChat, removed Wen Yuchuan from her blacklist, and then put her phone away without another glance, collapsing into bed from sheer exhaustion.

Her sleep was far from restful. She drifted in and out of a shallow, uneasy slumber, only to suddenly start shivering for no apparent reason. The longer she slept, the worse she felt.

It was already completely dark outside, and with the curtains drawn, the room was pitch black.

When Ji Qingyi woke up, dizzy and disoriented, her first thought was how hungry she was. Her stomach was empty, yet acid reflux burned her throat. She swallowed, tasting nothing but bitter sourness, and only when she licked her lips did she catch the faintest hint of sweetness.

Suddenly, she craved honey water.

Once the thought took hold, it was impossible to ignore. The moment the craving surfaced, it consumed her entire mind—she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had it.

Honey… Ji Qingyi’s thoughts were muddled, and it took her a moment to realize she was overthinking things—for a fleeting second, she’d actually believed the honey Wen Yuchuan had brought out was specifically prepared for her.

Better get up first. Ji Qingyi shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts that were clouding her mind.

The moment she sat up, another wave of dizziness hit her. Even though she was wearing a jacket, she still felt cold. Of course—she’d only taken medicine once. How could she expect to recover so quickly? She sighed helplessly. The vertigo was unbearable; she hated this disorienting, floating sensation. It made her nauseous.

She pressed a hand to her forehead to check if her fever had gone down, but her whole body was burning up, so she couldn’t tell any difference.

Thermometer…

Ji Qingyi got out of bed and stumbled to the living room, rummaging through the bag of medicine. She was sure it was in there.

Ah, nothing.

Then it suddenly came back to her—Wen Yuchuan had taken out both the medicine and the thermometer earlier, placing them on the table, saying she’d check her temperature later. But Ji Qingyi had fallen asleep soon after Wen Yuchuan went into the kitchen, and the matter was forgotten. After that, they’d had a series of strange conversations, and the thermometer had slipped her mind entirely.

Finally, Ji Qingyi thought to check her phone. She wobbled back to her room, picked it up, and the moment she unlocked it, Wen Yuchuan’s messages flooded the screen.

“Asleep?”

“Left the thermometer here. Come get it later so we can check if you’re feeling better.”

“What do you want for dinner?”

“Still not awake?”

The messages that followed were more of the same. Ji Qingyi opened the chat and, without thinking, typed corn and pork rib soup. Then, realizing she had no reason to reply, she deleted it.

“I’ll come get the thermometer later.”

That was the only message she sent. The reply came instantly.

“Come now.”

Ji Qingyi didn’t even bother combing her hair. She walked next door with her sleep-mussed locks, past caring about appearances.

“Give it to me.”

The moment Wen Yuchuan opened the door, Ji Qingyi stretched out her right hand, demanding the thermometer.

“Come in first.”

Wen Yuchuan smiled.

Not getting what she wanted and hearing this response, Ji Qingyi immediately turned to leave. But before she could take a single step back, the hand she’d extended was caught.

Well, since I reached out, I might as well take something—even if it’s just a hand.

Ji Qingyi was suddenly pulled inside, staggering a couple of steps before regaining her balance. As expected, she collided into the other person’s arms. Finally lifting her head, she glared at them angrily—this was truly the last straw. Ji Qingyi wanted to demand, What do you think you’re doing?

“Inviting you to dinner. It’s not like you were going to cook anyway.”

Ji Qingyi had just been about to snap back when the other’s words cut her off. But then again, even if Wen Yuchuan meant well, did that mean she had to be grateful for being forced into having dinner like this?

“No thanks. Give me the thermometer.”

Ji Qingyi was blunt.

“It’s just a meal.”

“No.”

“I made too much. I can’t finish it alone.”

“So what?”

“Really? There’s corn and pork rib soup.”

“…Oh?”

Ji Qingyi had been about to turn and leave, but at those words, she hesitated. Was this deliberate? Making her favorite soup on purpose. Her mouth felt bitter, and she licked her lips, craving something light and sweet.

“Yep.”

She heard Wen Yuchuan’s low chuckle again. Even without looking up, she could picture the slight curve of their lips, the way their eyes crinkled in amusement.

Would it be too humiliating to give in just for a bowl of soup? Ji Qingyi bit her lip. But it had been so long since she’d had a properly made stew…

“No—”

She struggled for a moment, still wanting to leave, but couldn’t help glancing toward the kitchen. The faint aroma had already reached her.

Corn and pork rib soup… She swallowed, her throat dry and bitter, already imagining the rich, savory sweetness.

“You need to eat before taking your medicine, right? Didn’t you promise me you’d take it on time? If you order takeout now, it’ll be too late.”

Watching Ji Qingyi’s gaze flicker toward the kitchen, Wen Yuchuan couldn’t help another quiet laugh. To avoid provoking her further, they quickly offered a reasonable excuse for her to stay.

Hearing this, Ji Qingyi licked her lips again. The taste of honey water had long faded—there wasn’t even a trace of sweetness left.

“…Fine.”

After a brief internal battle, she finally relented. It was a free meal, after all. It wasn’t like she was losing anything.

“It’ll be ready soon.”

Wen Yuchuan gestured toward the coffee table in front of the sofa—the thermometer was right there.

As they returned to the kitchen, Ji Qingyi picked up the thermometer and slipped it under her clothes. She had come here to check her temperature, but now she was getting a meal out of it too—and it was their idea for her to stay.

A strange sense of comfort settled over her. The kitchen door was left ajar, the scent of simmering soup drifting into the living room. She suspected Wen Yuchuan had done it on purpose, just to make it impossible for her to walk away.

Why go to all this trouble? Did they want to get back together? Or was this just some vague, meaningless game? Ji Qingyi knew Wen Yuchuan well—or so she thought. She was familiar with their preferences, their habits. But this? She couldn’t make sense of it. Just like how, even now, she still didn’t understand why they had suddenly broken up with her in the first place.

Maybe she should just ask outright. But that would mean dragging everything out into the open. It had already been a year—wasn’t it exhausting to keep dwelling on the past? Besides, Ji Qingyi had no intention of getting back together. At least, not now. Definitely not now.

Since there was no intention of reconciling, did it really matter whether things were made clear or not? Why bother delving into the past and inviting trouble?

Ji Qingyi leaned back against the sofa, enveloped in warmth and comfort. The chill she felt wasn’t as severe now. Breathing in the fragrant aroma, she imagined the clear sweetness of the stewed soup blooming on her taste buds. Aside from the lingering dizziness and hunger, she was actually quite comfortable. This sense of ease allowed her to relax momentarily, no longer wanting to dwell on the complicated nature of their relationship. Maintaining this peaceful status quo didn’t seem so bad after all.

__

Under the warm yellow light, Ji Qingyi twirled the thermometer in her hand. The mercury line was too thin—she had to squint to see it clearly.

The temperature hadn’t changed. Still 38.6°C. She set the thermometer down but then picked it up again for a closer look. There was no mistake; even the decimal point hadn’t budged.

Ji Qingyi couldn’t help but sigh. Though this was to be expected, she felt wretched from the dizziness, alternating between chills and fever, and still hoped the fever would break soon.

“Feeling any better?”

Wen Yuchuan brought the soup and dishes to the table before walking over to ask.

“No.”

Ji Qingyi slumped weakly, drained from both illness and hunger. Too disheartened to put on a front in front of Wen Yuchuan, the truth slipped out effortlessly.

“Eat first. Take your medicine after, and you’ll feel better.”

Wen Yuchuan stepped closer as she spoke.

Ji Qingyi tilted her head back against the sofa, the warm yellow light dazzling her eyes. The words spoken from above sounded like they were meant for a child, and she felt a twinge of dissatisfaction—as if she were being treated as fragile and immature. Yet, given her current state, she had no grounds to argue. All she could do was let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“Ji Qingyi, I just want you to get better soon.”

Wen Yuchuan spoke after hearing that faint laugh. She could tell Ji Qingyi was overthinking again—illness always made her prone to negative thoughts.

“It won’t happen that fast anyway.”

Ji Qingyi murmured softly as she sat up. Just as she was about to rise, she was gently pressed back down, her forehead meeting that familiar coolness once more.

Wen Yuchuan checked her temperature again with her hand and frowned. There really was no change; breaking the fever would take some effort.

“Eat first. Some hot soup will help you feel better.”

Wen Yuchuan withdrew her hand, her gaze steady and reassuring as she looked into Ji Qingyi’s eyes.

If someone were to ask Ji Qingyi what it felt like to be cared for and coaxed into eating by an ex-girlfriend while sick, she’d probably struggle to put it into words.

It was… strange.

Because they no longer had an intimate relationship, yet here they were, engaging in something that bordered on intimacy.

But it wasn’t unpleasant.

This was the truth Ji Qingyi didn’t want to admit but couldn’t deny—her genuine feelings from deep within.

“Mhm.”

Ji Qingyi responded softly, her voice subdued, lacking its usual sharpness.

__

The hot soup washed over her tongue, dissolving the bitterness and finally letting the sweetness come through.

Ji Qingyi only had an appetite for the soup, but hunger was inevitable. She forced herself to eat, taking small, slow bites, grinding the rice between her teeth until it was thoroughly chewed before swallowing. Each mouthful took forever—if she ate this slowly at work, she’d never make it on time.

Such leisurely and unhurried moments were rare—only when she was alone or with Wen Yuchuan could Ji Qingyi experience them. Suddenly, she felt a little dazed. Wen Yuchuan was sitting right beside her, sharing a meal. This familiar scene was commonplace in her memories, yet in reality, it felt special because it had been so long since they last did this.

“Is it good?”

“Mhm.”

If this were still the past, she would have lavished the highest praise without hesitation.

But now was now.

A sudden heaviness settled in Ji Qingyi’s chest—different from the fog in her mind, this was a suffocating weight pressing on her heart.

“Wen Yuchuan.”

She called out the other’s name abruptly.

It was just an impulse, an unconscious utterance. But the moment she spoke, regret followed. She had wanted to say something, yet the thought was too vague, too unclear. Realizing she shouldn’t have said anything at all, she fell silent.

Wen Yuchuan turned to look at her, but no words followed. She waited, but Ji Qingyi remained quiet, her lips sealed.

“Ji Qingyi, I’m here.”

No response.

“I’ll always—”

Wen Yuchuan began again with a smile.

“Your soup is really good.”

Ji Qingyi suddenly blurted out a statement that, while true, was clearly out of place—a deliberate interruption to cut off whatever Wen Yuchuan had been about to say.

“I’m done eating.”

For no reason, guilt prickled at her. She averted her gaze before speaking.

“Then take your medicine.”

Wen Yuchuan sighed helplessly, swallowing back the words that had been stopped in their tracks. After a pause, she spoke again.