The Cold Queen is My Exclusive Little Snack - Chapter 17

Chu Shiyin seemed to glow.

Even days after returning home, Zuo Xingning couldn’t stop replaying the way Chu Shiyin had spoken those words.

The girl’s youthful sharpness and the woman’s mature compassion coexisted in her eyes, appearing in her dreams every night.

Awakening once again from unbearable gasping breaths, Zuo Xingning changed her clothes and finally had to admit—

She might, probably, perhaps, definitely had fallen in love with Chu Shiyin.

This wasn’t the worshipful affection for an idol, nor was it a bond sealed by scent. It was genuine, heartfelt love blossoming on an ordinary day.

The exact moment her feelings had transformed remained a mystery. Perhaps it had begun at first sight; the scent had merely been a convenient excuse she’d given herself.

Realizing this, Zuo Xingning no longer dared to brazenly cling to Chu Shiyin. Instead, she would secretly crack open her door at night, inhaling the faint, lingering fragrance from the adjacent room like a lifeline.

Chu Shiyin, unlike Zuo Xingning, had no time for such indulgences. She quickly became busy, sometimes disappearing for days at a time. The bruises on Zuo Xingning’s foot faded, and the scent of Chu Shiyin in the house grew fainter. Zuo Xingning experienced separation anxiety even before Tuantuan did.

Under this torment, Zuo Xingning, despite maintaining her appetite, grew noticeably thinner. Her chin sharpened, and even her eyes took on a melancholic hue.

If Tuantuan were a few years older, she would have noticed her mother’s unusual behavior. Aunt Chen, who had a teenage daughter herself, was even more perceptive.

After finishing her work, Aunt Chen couldn’t resist calling Chu Shiyin to explain the situation.

Chu Shiyin acknowledged the information, exchanged a few more words, and hung up. Another voice immediately came through her earpiece.

“Finished up?” The speaker’s voice was laced with amusement, yet carried an undeniable air of authority. “Have you made a decision?”

“It’s only been six minutes since you made your offer,” Chu Shiyin replied calmly. “President Yan’s company is thriving. Why the sudden interest in making movies?”

“Let’s just say I was… persuaded,” Zhongli Yan said, though his tone betrayed no hint of coercion. “To be honest, it’s for my fiancée.”

“President Yan is engaged? Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Having finally heard the words he wanted, Zhongli Yan dropped the pretense. “My fiancée is deeply passionate about her career in the entertainment industry. Before we marry, I want to assemble several production teams for her—directors, screenwriters, musicians, lyricists, the works. With established teams, she’ll have a smooth transition if she ever wants to change her focus.”

“I see. President Yan’s devotion is truly remarkable,” Chu Shiyin said with detached flattery. “But am I being treated like a lab rat here?”

“Using ‘Chu Shiyin’ as a lab rat?” Zhongli Yan chuckled. “You overestimate me. I simply want a mutually beneficial partnership. Could it be… Teacher Chu, you’re truly not even a little tempted by my team?”

Chu Shiyin remained silent.

Zhongli Yan was wealthy and influential, and his team was among the best in the industry. Moreover, he lacked the typical overbearing tendencies of investors. To say she wasn’t tempted would be a lie.

It had been a long time since her last film role. The movie released earlier that year had been shelved for years. Now, at the mere sight of bait, her acting instincts were stirring.

“Discussing business over the phone is indeed inconvenient,” Zhongli Yan said, leaving Chu Shiyin room to consider. “Why don’t we schedule a time to discuss this in detail later?”

“President Yan is a busy man. I don’t think we need to schedule another meeting,” Chu Shiyin replied, asking her assistant for her itinerary. “You’ll be attending the Han Family’s charity gala the day after tomorrow, won’t you? We could discuss it there.”

“Agreed.”

This was exactly what Zhongli Yan had hoped for. After hanging up, Chu Shiyin tapped her phone against her left palm, one tap at a time.

Zhongli Yan, that ruthless shark… Who would have thought he’d be such a sentimental fool? I wonder which poor girl has caught his eye…

What a stroke of bad luck.

After Aunt Chen left for the day, Zuo Xingning was alone at home.

After dinner, she strolled leisurely around the living room, pacing in circles to aid digestion while practicing mouth exercises.

Her foot injury, which had been healing for nearly two weeks, was almost fully recovered. Yu Siya, fearing lingering complications, had deliberately kept her resting, delaying any work assignments.

Chu Shiyin, however, wasn’t as idle. She had already been…

Zuo Xingning stopped pacing and glanced at the clock.

A full 54 hours and 27 minutes had passed since Chu Shiyin last returned! In her mind, each day felt like three years, and rounding up, it felt like she hadn’t seen Chu Shiyin in nine years—nine whole years!

“Tuantuan!” Zuo Xingning rushed over to the cat tree and scooped up the sleeping cat. “You must miss Master too, right?”

“Meow~” Tuantuan kicked her away gracefully and leaped down, clearly uninterested in the foolish Two-Legged Beast.

Refusing to let go of the only living creature besides herself so easily, Zuo Xingning chased Tuantuan wildly around the apartment until both collapsed, exhausted, onto the carpet.

Ah, that feels good.

After resting for a while, Zuo Xingning got up, took a shower, and decided to leave Tuantuan alone. It was still early, so she turned off the lights and sat obediently on the sofa, watching TV under the pretense of “revisiting classics.”

“Revisiting classics” was one of the assignments given by her acting teacher, Teacher Feng.

Teacher Feng, a veteran in the industry, possessed exceptional acting skills but had never achieved mainstream success. In her spare time, she taught acting classes to supplement her income.

After injuring her foot, Zuo Xingning found it difficult to attend in-person classes. Coincidentally, Teacher Feng was also swamped with work, so she assigned Zuo Xingning a mountain of “homework,” reviewing it every few days. In addition, she provided a lengthy list of films and TV shows, urging her to watch them whenever she had time, emphasizing the importance of observation, practice, and in-depth study.

Teacher Feng was notoriously picky. Most of the films and TV shows she recommended were old classics from the 1990s or early 2000s. The most recent one featured Chu Shiyin as the lead.

This was an art-house film with a retro aesthetic. Chu Shiyin often wore tank tops and hot pants in the film, radiating a bright, confident, and youthful energy.

Zuo Xingning admitted to herself that she had ulterior motives. Cloaking her actions under the noble banner of “revisiting classics,” she watched the film she knew by heart again and again.

When Zuo Xingning first watched the film, it was to see Chu Shiyin. Back then, Chu Shiyin was still in high school, and Xingning had been captivated by her performance, a fascination that quickly spiraled out of control.

Now, she still watched for Chu Shiyin, but her focus had shifted. Her eyes now lingered only on Chu Shiyin’s every expression—her smiles, her frowns, her anger, her resentment…

For Zuo Xingning, this film was like an archaeological site where the initial excavation had concluded. While no obvious treasures remained, sifting through the soil and filtering the sand might still reveal a forgotten artifact or two.

For instance, in a mid-film scene, Chu Shiyin rode her bicycle through a bustling alley. The wind lifted the hem of her shirt, briefly exposing a small, red mole on her lower back.

Though the shot lasted less than a second, Zuo Xingning became obsessed. Whether her eyes were open or closed, that mole haunted her vision.

Clutching the remote, Zuo Xingning skipped through the lengthy scenes without Chu Shiyin, then curled up with her knees drawn to her chest.

She gradually lost herself in the film, her eyes glued to the screen. The soles of her feet pressed against the edge of the sofa, twisting and grinding. Her thighs squeezed together, causing her body to twitch and tremble. Burying the lower half of her face in her knees, she bit down hard on her lower lip, refusing to let out a single sound.

The scene was about to play. Zuo Xingning’s entire body flushed crimson. She unconsciously tilted her head back, her eyes glistening with a watery sheen. Without the barrier of her knees, a choked sob escaped her lips, on the verge of release.

In the next instant, the lights blazed on.

“Hah… uh…” Zuo Xingning gasped, her breathing ragged. She quickly shifted her legs before darting a panicked glance toward the doorway, her bl00d running cold and her face draining of color.

It was Chu Shiyin, standing there with the lights on, her eyebrow arched slightly. “What are you watching? You didn’t even turn on the lights.”

“N-no, it’s not… I…” Despite watching a perfectly legitimate movie, Zuo Xingning stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. She fumbled frantically for the remote, but before she could find it, the television volume suddenly surged.

…I bet you’re just feeling guilty!

The line from the TV was so perfectly timed it sent shivers down Zuo Xingning’s spine. She finally located the remote, which had been trapped under her leg, and frantically turned the volume down, but it was too late to switch it off.

“Jiejie, Jiejie,” Zuo Xingning said, flashing her a placating smile.

“Why are you sneaking around watching my movies? I thought…” Chu Shiyin paused, leaving the sentence unfinished.

Zuo Xingning didn’t dare press further, awkwardly saying, “Jiejie, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“We wrapped up early. How’s your foot?”

“It’s all healed,” Zuo Xingning said, lifting her skirt slightly to show her. A ring of purple bruises marred the pale skin of her foot. “It looks scary, but it’s fine now. The doctor said some safflower oil would do the trick.”

“Mm,” Chu Shiyin replied, asking no further questions.

Two rainstorms had passed in recent days, ushering in the full chill of autumn. Chu Shiyin wore a black trench coat that reached her knees. Inside, she wore a white top gathered at the waist.

Zuo Xingning watched as Chu Shiyin took off her trench coat and hung it on the standing rack, then went to wash her hands. When the water stopped and Chu Shiyin turned to walk over, Zuo Xingning quickly averted her gaze, not daring to glance at her even for a moment. In her narrow field of vision, she could only see two straight, slender legs encased in denim jeans, drawing closer and closer until they stopped right in front of her.

“Look up at me.” After not seeing her for a few days, she seemed to have lost some weight.

“…L-look at what?” Zuo Xingning didn’t dare lift her head, feeling guilty. Her thoughts were filled with things she shouldn’t be thinking.

“What else would I be looking at?” Chu Shiyin said, her cool fingers already pinching Zuo Xingning’s cheek. With a slight pressure, she forced Zuo Xingning to tilt her head up.

“J-Jiejie…” Zuo Xingning’s voice softened involuntarily. Chu Shiyin had just washed her hands, making them ice-cold against Zuo Xingning’s face—a pleasant chill that made her want to kiss them.

Her cheeks flushed hotter and hotter, her long lashes trembling gently. The chandelier’s light shattered into glittering fragments in her eyes, making them glisten wetly, soft and obedient… making Chu Shiyin want to bully her mercilessly.

To see those beautiful eyes spill tears as bright as stars.

“Jiejie,” the grip tightened. Zuo Xingning wanted to move but didn’t dare, pleading pitifully, “It hurts…”

The whispered fantasies and the real-world whimpers merged, a thunderous roar erupting in Chu Shiyin’s ears. She stumbled back in panic.

It was the sound of her own racing heartbeat.