The Cold Queen is My Exclusive Little Snack - Chapter 32

Bang!

Bang, bang!

Amidst the fireworks, Chu Shiyin led Zuo Xingning back to the hotel.

The weather had been poor all day. A light rain fell in the morning, followed by overcast skies. The ground remained damp, and Zuo Xingning had slipped on a downhill slope, tumbling over and over. Her clothes were now a mess, especially her pants, which were so dirty she couldn’t even sit down. Her makeup was smeared, making her look like a little kitten that had just crawled out of a stove.

Chu Shiyin had no choice but to take her to the bathroom, where she helped Zuo Xingning change into clean clothes. As she changed her, Chu Shiyin asked, “Why were you running so fast?”

With her injured hand making it difficult to move, Zuo Xingning awkwardly let Chu Shiyin handle her. “I was afraid I’d be late.”

Chu Shiyin sighed helplessly. “So what if you’re late? It’s not the end of the world. Thank goodness it’s cold and you were wearing thick clothes, or that fall could have been much worse… Don’t ever do something like this again.”

Zuo Xingning nodded obediently, but her mind was already planning for next time: she would make sure to investigate thoroughly beforehand to avoid unexpected surprises like this “fireworks show.”

After changing clothes and removing her makeup, Chu Shiyin’s room service order arrived, bringing saline solution, iodine, and medical cotton balls.

When Zuo Xingning fell, she instinctively braced herself with her hands, scraping her palms full of grayish-black mud and sand, making it impossible to see the extent of her injuries.

Chu Shiyin didn’t dare move her until the saline solution arrived, then carefully began rinsing the wounds.

As the mud and sand washed away, raw, red flesh was revealed beneath. The left hand was the worst, with a scrape winding from the base of the pinky finger to the center of the wrist, the skin completely torn off in places. The saline solution made her hand tremble uncontrollably.

Chu Shiyin couldn’t bear to watch, but she had no choice. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re almost done.”

Zuo Xingning’s face paled, but she met Chu Shiyin’s gaze with a smile. “It’s okay, Jiejie. It doesn’t hurt.”

How could it not hurt? It hurts just watching her.

Chu Shiyin closed her eyes briefly, silently rinsing away the remaining mud and sand. She then dipped a cotton ball in iodine and gently applied it, blowing on the wound between applications.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“Mm-hmm,” Zuo Xingning nodded, still refusing to cry out in pain.

It really didn’t hurt much. Chu Shiyin’s movements were incredibly gentle, and the occasional cool breath she blew on the wound felt soothing.

As for the saline solution… well, that definitely stung.

Zuo Xingning compared the pain in her mind and muttered, “It doesn’t even hurt as much as biting myself.”

Chu Shiyin froze, her hand stopping mid-motion. “Why would you bite yourself?”

“I was afraid I’d faint from hunger,” Zuo Xingning glanced at her, stammering. “I couldn’t eat… back then, there weren’t even any ‘snacks’…”

Chu Shiyin didn’t understand, assuming she was joking. She looked away and continued disinfecting the wound. “Did the production crew not feed you properly?”

Zuo Xingning shook her head earnestly. “No, it was just that the food was good one day and terrible the next.”

With the povidone-iodine applied, Chu Shiyin gently patted Zuo Xingning’s flat stomach. “What about now? Are you hungry?”

Actually, she wasn’t. Without the Strange Fragrance, her appetite wouldn’t keep building up. Besides, she’d been cuddling, nuzzling, and eating with Chu Shiyin these past few days… she was quite full.

But… even if she wasn’t hungry, who would refuse more “food”?

“A little,” Zuo Xingning raised her injured hand, her eyes sparkling. “Can I still eat like this?”

“Why wouldn’t you be able to?” Chu Shiyin chuckled, taking it as a sign of affection. “Would it be so bad if I fed you?”

Five minutes later, before the floor-to-ceiling windows with their panoramic view, amidst the dazzling fireworks, Chu Shiyin’s delicate hands peeled back layers of petals as she fed Zuo Xingning…

Cake.

A small six-inch cake, completely smeared across the cake cover, its original shape utterly unrecognizable.

The cake hadn’t been sliced; there was no need. Chu Shiyin took a token bite or two with her fork before focusing entirely on feeding Zuo Xingning.

In the middle of the night, she had little appetite. If Zuo Xingning hadn’t been hungry, the cake might have lingered in its battered state for another day.

Zuo Xingning took a large bite, chewing thoughtfully. So this is what she meant by “eat”—well, that’s a normal person’s way of thinking. She swallowed her unspoken grievances, tears welling as she indulged in this late-night snack.

After eating for a while, Zuo Xingning began tearing at the decorative rose petals, sighing dramatically. “The flavor’s decent, but it’s over half an hour late.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Chu Shiyin didn’t care about the half-hour or even an hour’s delay. From the moment she realized Zuo Xingning hadn’t forgotten her birthday, she had already received everything she wanted.

“It’s different, though…” Even cake couldn’t silence Zuo Xingning’s grumbling. She continued muttering until Chu Shiyin sealed her lips with a kiss.

A fleeting kiss, barely touching before pulling away, as if only to make her listen intently.

Zuo Xingning stared at her, dazed. “Jiejie?”

Chu Shiyin’s eyes were earnest. “I don’t care about being late, and surprises mean nothing to me. All I care about is whether you came and whether you wanted to come. You hadn’t contacted me all day, and I thought you’d forgotten…”

Chu Shiyin trailed off mid-sentence.

She rarely spoke like this, and her cheeks flushed involuntarily. The initial impulse faded, leaving her unable to finish her thought. She hastily concluded, “Anyway, you’re here now. Don’t try to deceive or hide things from me just because you’re late, understand?”

Zuo Xingning remained silent, staring blankly at Chu Shiyin’s face.

Her cheeks were flushed, her face as beautiful as the dawn.

Chu Shiyin rarely blushed, even during intimate moments.

Zuo Xingning found herself mesmerized, her brain lagging by a few seconds before processing the meaning of Chu Shiyin’s words—

She’s… pouting.

Pouting! Chu Shiyin is pouting at me.

Even as she drifted off to sleep, Zuo Xingning’s mind kept replaying that thought.

Unable to resist, she leaned closer to Chu Shiyin. “Jiejie, you’re so cute~”

“…Go to sleep.”

The injuries on her hands looked worse than they were. By the time she woke up, they had already scabbed over. A skin-toned bandage concealed them well enough.

As actors gradually wrapped up their scenes and the production crew entered the final stages, Zuo Xingning finished work on the afternoon of the 24th. After confirming the delivery time with the Flower Shop staff, she casually opened a social media app to kill time on the way home.

The first thing her homepage recommended was something “weird”:

Xingqing CP.

“Xing” from Zuo Xingning’s name, “Qing” from Jiang Shuqing’s.

This wasn’t the first time Zuo Xingning had seen this ship name.

During the filming of Escape to Freedom, she and Jiang Shuqing had barely interacted, acting like they had just met. Back then, no one was shipping them—at least, not that she knew of.

The first time she saw “Xingqing” was after the show aired.

During the drop tower scene, the production team had mischievously zoomed in on their “hand-holding,” and the behind-the-scenes footage showed Jiang Shuqing rushing to a cold drink shop for ice after Zuo Xingning sprained her ankle.

The shipping began then, even though Zuo Xingning used a burner account to explain that the “hand-holding” was merely to prevent Jiang Shuqing’s manicured nails from breaking.

Of course, at this point, only a small group with peculiar tastes were shipping them.

What truly brought the Xingqing CP into the mainstream was a “debunking” video posted by a small influencer with several hundred thousand followers.

The influencer claimed she was college classmates with Zuo Xingning and Jiang Shuqing, posting a group photo as proof.

In the video, she casually brought up old college stories, subtly implying that Jiang Shuqing and Zuo Xingning had a strained relationship. She lamented that when she heard they were reuniting on a variety show, she didn’t even dare watch it.

After saying this, she feigned a slip of the tongue and patted her mouth. She then pivoted to praising Jiang Shuqing, saying that despite her wealthy background, she wasn’t a spoiled heiress but rather easy to get along with, urging viewers to support her old classmate.

As for Zuo Xingning? She didn’t mention her at all.

The influencer’s tactics were so transparently malicious that it was almost laughable, as if she feared Jiang Shuqing wouldn’t recognize her attempts at flattery if they were even slightly subtle.

This drove Jiang Shuqing mad. After ranting to Zuo Xingning, she immediately used her official account to retweet the video with the terse reply: “Mind your own business.”

This single sentence instantly enlightened her confused fans—

Their idol was a tsundere!

What strained relationship? You just don’t understand tsundere!

The influencer deleted the video after being bombarded with criticism, but savvy netizens had already downloaded it. They meticulously analyzed her “old stories” and ultimately concluded—

Rivals turned lovers. I’m shipping it.

The ranks of CP fans swelled. With one idol and one actress whose careers didn’t clash, the CP fans and solo stans coexisted in improbable harmony. The only one likely suffering from heartburn was the subjects themselves.

This time, the Xingqing CP once again set Zuo Xingning’s homepage ablaze, thanks to a set of photos released by a paparazzi stalking the Fuyi production crew.

The photos featured only Jiang Shuqing and Zuo Xingning.

In just a few days, the paparazzi had captured shots of them transitioning from modern attire—one blonde, one in ancient robes—to both wearing ancient costumes, somehow managing to portray a sense of past lives and present lives.

The caption was cheesy: “Fiery Orange-Clad Miss vs. Cold-Faced Black-Robed Assassin.”

But cheesiness didn’t matter—as long as the faces were stunning, the world was theirs.

With some clever photo editing, the final result was… so captivating that even a passing dog would stop for a bite.

Given the breathtaking visuals, the post’s popularity skyrocketed. Within two hours of its release, a user claiming to be an “insider from the production crew” dropped a bombshell:

Reliable source: Jiang Shuqing not only visits Zuo Xingning on set frequently, but Zuo Xingning also pulled strings with the Director to secure her role.

The comment section instantly flooded with “I’m shipping it!” and “IP confirmed!”

Zuo Xingning:  …

Shipping everything will only hurt you in the end.

After blocking the paparazzi’s account, Zuo Xingning logged into Weibo with her alt account, checked in to the Chuchu Dongxing fan forum, and started spamming:

Ahhhhhh Chuchu Dongxing is the best CP ever!!!!!

At 8:30 PM, the play concluded with a perfect finale.

Even before the curtain call, Chu Shiyin had noticed someone had finally taken the seat that had been empty in the VIP section all evening.

The person hadn’t removed their scarf or hat, stubbornly keeping themselves bundled up in the heated theater like a thief.

The more they tried to be discreet, the more conspicuous they became. Fortunately, the audience was too engrossed in the performance to notice this “clumsy little thief.”

As the cast bowed during the curtain call and the lights came up, Chu Shiyin glanced back at the seat—it was empty again.

Knowing she had gone backstage, Chu Shiyin went to find her. As she passed the dressing room, a hand suddenly darted out through the crack in the door, tugging her inside.

The door slammed shut, and icy lips immediately pressed against hers.

The clumsy little thief seemed to be in a foul mood, her kisses rough and impatient. Chu Shiyin leaned against the door, patiently soothing her while gently guiding her by the waist to move away from the entrance.

The dressing room was hardly a suitable place for kissing; someone could walk in at any moment.

Chu Shiyin moved them to the window and tugged on the heavy, wine-red curtains, which cascaded down in layers, enveloping them in a private space.

As she had anticipated, the dressing room door swung open again just a few minutes later.

The lights flooded in, piercing through the wine-red curtains and bathing their figures in a warm glow.

Zuo Xingning trembled in fright, barely managing to whisper, “Jiejie…”

“Focus.”

Chu Shiyin’s teeth grazed her lips. Before Zuo Xingning could grasp the meaning of those words, she was lifted by the waist and pressed against the window.

The narrow windowsill offered little support, and Zuo Xingning nearly slipped. Chu Shiyin’s grip caught her, leaving her suspended between the window and the floor.

Chu Shiyin tilted her head back to kiss her, a gesture that seemed to place herself in a submissive position.

Zuo Xingning gazed at her through half-closed eyes, studying her in the crimson light filtering through the curtains.

Chu Shiyin seemed to relish this dynamic. During their argument days earlier, she had similarly lifted Zuo Xingning, creating a height difference that forced her to tilt her head back to kiss her, as if begging for mercy. Yet both knew who truly held the power.

Now, Zuo Xingning had no room to resist.

Footsteps drew closer, their rhythm drowning out her heartbeat.

If the curtains were pulled aside, anyone outside would see… see them…

Zuo Xingning’s waist went limp. She regretted initiating this kiss. Tonight, Chu Shiyin was like an insatiable wolf.

Another nip at her lips. Zuo Xingning understood the command: Focus.

She felt like crying. Focus? How could she focus?

Dissatisfied, Chu Shiyin’s kisses grew more fervent. She raised her hand, letting it linger on Zuo Xingning’s thigh.

After several practice sessions, Chu Shiyin knew Zuo Xingning’s body intimately.

At that moment, Zuo Xingning could only focus on one thing: controlling her voice.

Her heart pounding, she finally heard the footsteps fade away. The lights dimmed, then brightened again.

Chu Shiyin had turned them on.

After sitting awkwardly on the windowsill for a while, Zuo Xingning’s leg went numb. She stumbled over to a chair and collapsed into it, gasping for breath.

She had been so terrified of being discovered that she had nearly forgotten to breathe.

It took Zuo Xingning a long time to catch her breath and regain her voice. Half-annoyed, half-teasing, she called out, “Jiejie!”

Chu Shiyin strolled over casually, replying, “Hmm, I’m here.”

Zuo Xingning was disarmed by her nonchalant attitude. She sensed something was off about Chu Shiyin, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “That was so dangerous,” she said. “We almost got caught.”

“I know.”

Chu Shiyin stood before her, stroking her hair, then tracing her cheek down to her chin. With a gentle hook of her index finger, she forced Zuo Xingning to tilt her head back, her eyes locked on hers. Only hers.

“You hide so carefully at the theater, afraid of being photographed? Afraid our relationship will be exposed?”

“But you and Jiang Shuqing… aren’t you afraid of being photographed?”