The Cold Goddess Always Wants to Turn Me Gay (GL) - Chapter 51: So This Is What Love Feels Like

For Yu Xin Xin, the sudden need to confront emotions forced into the open still felt surreal.

The noisy chatter around her buzzed incessantly in her ears. Zhou Tong was cheerfully chatting with others, and bursts of laughter rose intermittently from the surroundings. Yet Yu Xin Xin felt isolated—outwardly calm, but inwardly turbulent, her mind a jumbled mess.

She couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Wei Zhi, who wore a composed expression as she quietly and elegantly took small bites of food. Dressed in a pristine white shirt, the immaculate fabric complemented her fair skin. Her delicate collarbones peeked subtly from the open collar with each movement, and her sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing slender wrists and a section of her forearm. She ate in silence, as if nothing around her could capture even the slightest bit of her attention. Her calm demeanor made Yu Xin Xin wonder if the confession earlier had just been a dream. Realizing this, an inexplicable irritation rose in her chest, and her expression shifted as she stared at Wei Zhi.

Noticing Yu Xin Xin’s gaze, Wei Zhi curved her lips slightly and turned her head, meeting the other’s eyes without hesitation. She teased, “Xin Xin, peeking at me again?”

Yu Xin Xin’s heart skipped, and she guiltily averted her gaze, her cheeks growing warm. She grabbed a bottle of drink in front of Zhou Tong and took a few sips, only belatedly realizing her reaction might have been excessive. It wasn’t like she’d done anything wrong—why did she feel so guilty?

“It’s getting cold. Don’t drink chilled beverages from now on,” Wei Zhi said, her eyes lingering on Yu Xin Xin’s hand before she took the bottle away and poured her a cup of warm water instead.

Yu Xin Xin accepted the cup, feeling the warmth spread through her palms and into her heart. The earlier frustration melted away, replaced by a sweet, lingering sensation.

“Got it,” she replied softly.

Wei Zhi was about to say something else when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, and a trace of coldness flickered in her deep eyes as she read the message. Turning back to Yu Xin Xin, she said, “I need to step out for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

“Oh.” Yu Xin Xin felt reluctant. “Come back quickly.”

Her gaze clung to the other’s retreating figure until it disappeared through the restaurant doorway. Turning back to the food on her plate, she felt an inexplicable sense of loss. When had her emotions become so swayed by the other’s every word and action? From the smallest phrase or glance to the grandest embrace or kiss.

She remembered the pain that had spread through her heart when Wei Zhi told her they were breaking up; the aching tenderness she’d felt when Wei Zhi had emotional breakdowns, wishing she could bear the pain for her; how her heart would flutter wildly every time Wei Zhi said she liked her; how her heartbeat refused to calm for the longest time after each of Wei Zhi’s kisses.

Was all of this because… she liked her?

And when had this liking even begun?

Wei Zhi had always been gentle, considerate, and attentive toward her. She’d crossed from Jiangcheng to Beishi overnight for her sake; made excuses just to have her company, all to take her on trips to lift her spirits; made sure to feed her meals punctually every day; carefully unscrewed bottle caps when she was thirsty; carried her home when she was tired; respected her feelings by keeping their relationship private; indulged and cared for her in every big and small matter of life.

Everything about her made Yu Xin Xin’s heart flutter inexplicably.

Not long ago, she’d still liked Qin Rui, yet this current fluttering in her heart felt softer and deeper. Though they’d only known each other for slightly over two months, it felt as if they’d already walked through years together.

“Xin Xin, why are you crying?” Zhou Tong’s surprised voice reached her ears.

Only then did she realize her face was wet with cold liquid—she’d been crying?

Wiping the tears from her cheeks casually, Yu Xin Xin pretended nonchalance. “Maybe something got in my eye.”

Zhou Tong looked doubtful—would something in the eye produce so many tears?

“Hey, whatever’s bothering you, just set it aside for now,” one of their classmates said, nervously pushing a glass of red wine toward her. “Have some wine to relax.”

Yu Xin Xin looked at the offered glass, recalling the array of alcohol in the drinks section. Not being much of a drinker, she declined, “I don’t drink.”

“It’s just red wine—very low alcohol content, practically no different from juice,” the classmate insisted.

“Right, this wine tastes just like water, barely any flavor,” Zhou Tong chimed in.

Yu Xin Xin took the glass and hesitantly sipped. The taste was tart. Remembering Wei Zhi’s departing figure, that sense of loss welled up again, so she downed the entire glass in one go. The sourness in her mouth intensified, and she immediately regretted it. Grabbing the glass of warm water on the table, she drank several gulps before feeling better—then suddenly remembered this water had been poured by Wei Zhi. The melancholy transformed into sweet warmth.

So this is what liking someone feels like!

Sweet… and actually quite nice!

Seeing the irrepressible smile blooming at the corners of Yu Xin Xin’s eyes, Zhou Tong relaxed—her friend’s earlier expression had genuinely worried her.

In the enclosed private room of the hotel, the table was laden with exquisite dishes, clearly prepared with great care. The decor of the room was worlds apart from the self-service restaurant outside, exuding understated luxury and elegance—a perfect match for the person sitting across from her.

“What did you want to see me for?”

“Tsk.” Gu Mingxi clicked her tongue, looking at Wei Zhi with displeasure. “It’s been so long since we last met. Can’t I, as your cousin, just treat you to a meal?”

“Let’s skip the meal. My stomach isn’t great—I’m afraid I won’t be able to digest it.” Wei Zhi wasn’t lying; her stomach really was sensitive.

Gu Mingxi’s smile stiffened for a moment before quickly recovering. “How have you been lately?…” She rubbed the wine glass in her hand. “How’s your health? Are your emotions stable?”

Wei Zhi raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a mocking half-smile, the chill in her eyes unconcealed. “Are you concerned about me?”

The smile vanished from Gu Mingxi’s face. Her expression darkened as she stared at Wei Zhi, her eyes swirling with complex emotions. After a pause, she said, “No matter what, I practically raised you. Can’t I show some concern?”

Gu Mingxi was nearly thirty now, yet time had left no trace on her face. To an outsider, she might have passed for a recent college graduate. But those who knew her understood that beneath her youthful, radiant appearance lay a capricious and domineering nature. After her mother’s death, she had only grown more ruthless and unfeeling.

In Wei Zhi’s eyes, before that incident, Gu Mingxi had been her closest friend and her favorite cousin. Their relationship was complicated. From the earliest memories Wei Zhi had, her mother had always been frail, and her father was rarely home. Her childhood consisted of little more than her sickly mother in the hospital and Gu Mingxi. Gu Mingxi had filled the void of familial warmth she craved, and Wei Zhi had trusted her completely—but that was all before that incident.

After it happened, Wei Zhi had thought she could find salvation in Gu Mingxi. She had believed Gu Mingxi would pull her out of the abyss. So she had confided everything, hoping Gu Mingxi would take her away from that cold, guilt-ridden, filthy home. Instead, Gu Mingxi had shoved her into an even deeper hell. To this day, Wei Zhi still remembered the bone-deep hatred in Gu Mingxi’s eyes—a hatred so intense it flayed her alive a hundred times over, extinguishing the last flicker of hope she had.

It was only then that Wei Zhi realized Gu Mingxi’s kindness had never been for her—it had all been because of her mother. Her mind shattered in that moment. She had always had nothing. The only person who had ever loved her, her mother, had died hating her. She had no father, no friends—even her very existence was the product of a lie. She had pinned all her hopes on Gu Mingxi to save her, but everything had gone wrong. It was as if the whole world had abandoned her, and her existence only served to prove how pitiful she was.

“Concern?” Wei Zhi looked at her in amusement, as if she’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Do you even believe that yourself?”

Gu Mingxi fell silent, her dark eyes flickering with unreadable emotions. But in just an instant, she slipped back into her usual careless smile.

Watching Gu Mingxi put on that trademark fake smile again, Wei Zhi suddenly felt exhausted. She shouldn’t have come. Remembering that Yu Xin Xin was still waiting for her, she stood up without hesitation and walked out.

Seeing Wei Zhi about to leave, Gu Mingxi spoke up, “You seem very protective of that girlfriend of yours.”

“What do you mean?” Hearing this, Wei Zhi stopped in her tracks and turned slightly, her icy, profound eyes locking directly onto Gu Mingxi.

Gu Mingxi was somewhat surprised. Even in the past when she had treated Wei Zhi harshly, said so many heartless words, even after Wei Zhi had emotionally broken down, she had never shown such an expression in front of her. It was like a lone wolf backed into a corner, glaring fiercely at its enemy. If she took even one step further, Wei Zhi would undoubtedly fight back with her life.

“Nothing much,” Gu Mingxi’s face turned cold, her brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. “Just a reminder—since you care so much about that girl, keep a close eye on her.”

“My people are naturally my responsibility. It’s you who should…” Wei Zhi’s voice was frigid, the chill in her eyes seeming to pierce the air, “behave yourself.”

“I’ll try my best,” Gu Mingxi replied with an indifferent expression.