She's Crazy, I Love Her - Chapter 14

She did it on purpose, Chi Yue thought.

Even without raising an alarm, a small commotion erupted. Seven or eight people suddenly swarmed into the secluded corner.

Chi Yue’s face paled slightly as she was quickly pushed to the edge of the crowd.

“Young Master Pei—”

Chi Yue watched as Pei Yi was helped past her, his face contorted in pain. His right arm hung stiffly at his side, and his shoulder was stained with dirt and scattered leaves.

Behind him, Qi You stood on the steps.

The debris from the shattered porcelain lay scattered around her feet. Her face, bathed in the clear light, wore an expression of perfectly measured, superficial concern, yet lacked any trace of the guilt or anxiety one would expect from the true culprit.

Chi Yue’s chest tightened.

“It might be a fracture,” someone in the receding crowd quickly assessed. “Check for other injuries! Someone fetch Doctor Yuan immediately.”

A staff member in a tailcoat hurried away.

“Miss Chi.”

Suddenly, someone called out to her.

Chi Yue snapped back to attention. A middle-aged man in a black suit and white bow tie stood before her, his hair neatly groomed and his expression stern. His gaze held an almost imperceptible sharpness as he looked at her.

He began by asking, “Are you alright? Were you injured?”

Chi Yue shook her head.

“I’m relieved to hear that. I sincerely apologize for this incident and the fright it must have caused you.” He bowed apologetically, his manners impeccable, before adding, “Miss Chi, as you were present throughout, you must know what happened.”

Chi Yue involuntarily glanced upstairs.

The balcony was now empty, save for the warm glow of the orange wall lamp. The geraniums stood silently between the railings, their vibrant, delicate petals swaying gently in the night breeze.

“We—Young Master Pei and I—were walking over from that direction when a flowerpot suddenly fell from above and struck him,” Chi Yue explained.

The man nodded, paused briefly, then asked, “How could a flowerpot fall like that?”

Qi You had also been present, yet the question was directed at Chi Yue.

Chi Yue clenched her hands. “I didn’t see clearly…”

The man studied her face, as if assessing her sincerity. After only two seconds, he shifted his gaze.

“Miss Chi, please don’t be alarmed. It was likely just an accident.”

It wasn’t an accident, Chi Yue thought, but she nodded anyway.

Chi Yue was led to a vacant living room inside the house. Someone poured her a glass of water and asked her to wait there.

Before long, members of the Pei Family began to arrive one after another, hurrying into the room without even glancing at Chi Yue in the corner.

Soon, Qi You entered as well.

Chi Yue straightened up immediately.

Qi You was accompanied by Zheng Qing and Qi Shouye—the patriarch’s domain. With the parents of the two younger generation members present, it was natural for them to take charge in this crisis.

The moment Chi Yue saw the expressions on their faces, she knew there was no need to question her, one of the parties involved, about Pei Yi’s injury from the falling flowerpot. It would undoubtedly be ruled an “accident.”

The tips of Chi Yue’s fingers gripping the glass turned pale.

Despite the bustling activity in the lounge, the banquet outside remained undisturbed. The music continued until a quarter past nine before gradually fading away.

After what felt like an eternity, the solid wooden door finally swung open, and several people emerged, their relief palpable.

“Thank goodness it wasn’t more serious. Otherwise, we’d never forgive ourselves…”

“Don’t say that. Young people are bound to make mistakes. No one wants these things to happen…”

“It’s just that the workers were too careless. Ah, well…”

Seeing the group, Sun Zhiping, who had been brought up by staff members midway through his search for Chi Yue, sprang to his feet. His legs twitched, rising and falling, but he ultimately lacked the courage to join the commotion.

Qi You, who was trailing at the back, was the first to notice her.

Chi Yue quickly lowered her gaze.

Her avoidance couldn’t stop Qi You from approaching.

The thick, ornate carpet absorbed most of the footsteps, but a faint rhythm still carried through the air, growing steadily closer.

As Qi You drew near, a hand extended toward her.

“Let’s go.”

Chi Yue’s slender shoulders trembled slightly. She paused before lifting her head.

Her hair hung loose today, soft, silky curls cascading down her back to her waist.

She was still wearing the pink dress, her fair, delicate frame enveloped in the gentle hue—pure, harmless, and strikingly non-threatening.

Her eyes met Qi You’s, like colliding with a silent, perilous abyss.

The abyss reflected Chi Yue’s pitiful image.

She was uninjured but clearly shaken.

Her pale face made her rouged lips appear strikingly red.

A thin sheen of moisture glistened at the corners of her eyes.

Qi You repeated, “Let’s go.”

Her tone was emotionless yet left no room for refusal.

Chi Yue placed her hand in Qi You’s—she had always known that resistance required power, and she had none.

Qi You’s hand was cool and dry, her fingers slender and firm. When she gripped Chi Yue’s hand, she applied gentle pressure, the delicate yet resilient bones clearly discernible beneath her skin.

Pei Yi’s mother looked at them in surprise. “You two know each other?”

“We’re friends,” Qi You replied.

Chi Yue could feel the woman’s scrutinizing gaze sweep across her face, yet her voice remained cheerful.

The woman didn’t probe into Chi Yue’s relationship with Pei Yi, nor did she object to Qi You taking her away. Instead, she turned to Zheng Qing and said, “It seems the children are quite familiar with each other. They might have been playing together all along.”

Zheng Qing smiled noncommittally.

The group was escorted out. By this time, most of the banquet guests had already left, leaving the once-bustling mansion eerily quiet in the aftermath of the festivities.

“I’ll take Miss Chi home,” Qi You said.

Zheng Qing nodded. “Remember to apologize. You were so clumsy and caused such a commotion, scaring everyone.”

After speaking, she glanced at Chi Yue with an ordinary, fleeting look before turning to walk toward Qi Shouye’s car.

Sun Zhiping was overjoyed that Qi You was offering to take Chi Yue home, thanking her profusely.

Left with no other choice, Chi Yue got into the car.

The back seat of the business sedan was spacious and comfortable. Instead of the lingering leather smell common in cars, the air carried a refreshing citrus fragrance.

Chi Yue sat upright on one side of the seat, her hands resting on her lap. The fabric of her skirt brushed against her fingertips as the car started moving.

Though their hands had parted long ago, the warmth of Qi You’s touch lingered on her skin.

“Aunt Lan, take us to Cuiying Huating.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Chi Yue pressed her lips together. Cuiying Huating was where she currently lived.

The car transitioned smoothly from the garden road to the winding mountain path.

Chi Yue expected Qi You to ask if she had seen anything or warn her not to speak carelessly.

But neither happened.

The car was eerily silent, save for the faint white noise of the high-speed mechanical components. After a few minutes, even that sound gradually faded from her awareness.

As they descended the mountain, the driver thoughtfully asked, “Would you like some music?”

Qi You hummed in acknowledgment, her tone indifferent.

This was Zheng Qing’s usual car, and it often played soothing, relaxing music. The driver quickly selected a delicate, melodious piano piece.

The music dispelled the oppressive silence. Chi Yue quietly relaxed her clenched fists and turned to gaze out the window.

The city’s nightscape glided past the window like fleeting light.

Chi Yue watched the trees blur by, then slowly turned her gaze to Qi You.

In contrast to Chi Yue’s tense posture, Qi You appeared completely relaxed, leaning casually against the seat back, her arm propping up her head.

From this angle, Chi Yue could only see Qi You’s profile—her forehead, the tip of her nose, her chin—like a minimalist sketch, simple yet fluid, reminiscent of ink paintings by ancient court artists. As the faint shadows shifted across the window, they seemed to capture the essence of the transient world.

Chi Yue stared for a long moment before realizing she had rarely, if ever, truly studied Qi You’s face.

She had always glanced at her hurriedly, anxiously, as if prolonged observation would burn her.

Yet in truth, Qi You’s expressions were rare.

Most of the time, her face remained emotionless, occasionally flickering with mockery, displeasure, irritation, or a cold smile.

Qi You tilted her head slightly.

Chi Yue’s eyes darted nervously.

But Qi You’s gaze had already locked onto hers.

Chi Yue felt as if a delicate spiderweb had landed on her skin—crystalline, vibrant, yet carrying a corrosive venom.

“What did Pei Yi want with you?” Qi You asked abruptly.

“He…”

Her voice was slightly hoarse from disuse. Chi Yue paused, then continued, “He was drunk and mistook me for someone else.”

Following Chi Yue’s words, Qi You said, “He mistook you for his first love.”

Chi Yue froze, surprised.

Qi You continued, “From now on—”

After a long two-second pause, Chi Yue looked at her, but Qi You didn’t finish her sentence.

From now on, what?

After a moment, Qi You changed the subject, returning to their earlier conversation. “His first love is already dead.”

Chi Yue was momentarily confused. After a moment, she let out a soft “Ah.”

Qi You said, “You don’t look much like her. Pei Yi’s eyesight isn’t good.”

Chi Yue replied, “…Oh.”

What is she even talking about?

“About today,” Qi You paused slightly.

Chi Yue’s heart leaped into her throat.

Qi You raised her eyelids, meeting Chi Yue’s gaze directly. “Today wasn’t aimed at you.”

Chi Yue gripped the hem of her skirt tightly, far from reassured by Qi You’s words. Instead, her mind raced.

It wasn’t an accident after all.

I wasn’t mistaken.

But a heavy object—a potted plant weighing over ten pounds—had fallen from a great height.

What was she trying to do?

The car fell silent again.

A thin layer of sweat broke out on Chi Yue’s back.

Was it really not aimed at me?

At the time, was the distance between her and Pei Yi truly far enough for someone to accurately target one of them in the darkness?

Why would she do this?

Why did she act so brazenly, so utterly fearless?

Was she not afraid of Chi Yue revealing her actions?

After a long silence, Qi You suddenly reached out and tucked a slightly disheveled strand of hair behind Chi Yue’s ear.

Chi Yue was so startled she forgot to flinch away.

They were sitting close together, and the streetlight outside cast flickering shadows across Qi You’s calm face.

Invisible threads of silk silently crept forward, extending, stretching, intertwining, and multiplying, weaving a dense, airtight web in the blink of an eye.

Qi You didn’t immediately withdraw her hand. Her fingertips brushed against Chi Yue’s soft cheek as she asked, “What are you thinking about?”

Chi Yue’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. “Nothing,” she murmured.

Qi You savored her fear and unease.

“Is that so?” she said, her gaze unwavering.

The familiar sense of oppression descended like a suffocating darkness. A slight tightness gripped Chi Yue’s chest, but even more immediate was the burning sensation.

Qi You’s gaze had abruptly fallen to Chi Yue’s lips.

She stared openly, yet casually, her eyes lingering between the corners of Chi Yue’s eyes and the curve of her lips, lingering, circling back.

Like soft spider silk, drifting down with featherlight delicacy, brushing against her skin, impossible to ignore—a venomous itch barely perceptible.

After a moment, Qi You leaned back in her seat.

Neither spoke again, the silence stretching unbroken until they reached their destination.