The Cold Queen is My Exclusive Little Snack - Chapter 40

A mist-blue slip dress lay crumpled on the bedsheets, its dark stain spreading from the dampness.

Someone tossed it aside and laid down several tissues.

Zuo Xingning helped Chu Shiyin sit up, then stepped off the bed to retrieve wet wipes from a drawer. She carefully cleaned the stain.

Chu Shiyin didn’t resist.

Too exhausted, she leaned against the headboard, not even wanting to lift a finger.

A soft pattering sound came from outside the window, as if rain had begun to fall.

The flowers swayed gently, their open petals brimming with dewdrops, the ground beneath them a muddy, sodden mess.

The pistils, unable to withstand the sudden downpour, glowed even more vividly red, silently beckoning with their allure.

Inside the room, the damp cloth Zuo Xingning had been using to clean Chu Shiyin had mysteriously vanished.

Zuo Xingning leaned in and pressed a kiss to Chu Shiyin’s lips.

The kiss ended quickly, but the relentless stimulation had left Chu Shiyin’s body so sensitive that even the slightest touch was unbearable.

Now, Chu Shiyin truly had no strength left.

Fortunately, Zuo Xingning refrained from further mischief.

After getting off the bed, she reverted to her usual docile demeanor, like a wolfhound transforming into a house pet—all gentleness and affection. When helping Chu Shiyin clean up, her movements were exceptionally tender.

What a cunningly deceptive house pet, Chu Shiyin thought. I was completely fooled by her submissive act. The moment we’re in bed, I inexplicably become the one being manipulated.

This little dog has grown bolder with each indulgence.

Grinding her teeth, Chu Shiyin yanked the blanket up and burrowed beneath it.

When Zuo Xingning returned after washing her hands, she found Chu Shiyin with only the back of her head visible beneath the covers, sulking like a child.

Zuo Xingning approached and first carried away the neatly folded blanket from the foot of the bed.

In the village, spare rooms were scarce. Like her and Chu Shiyin, Lin Fei and Yu Siya shared a room, but each pair still had two blankets.

After tidying up, Zuo Xingning found Chu Shiyin’s usual long-sleeved nightgown, hugged it, and slipped under the covers.

Chu Shiyin, her eyes closed, leaned slightly to make room for her.

“Jiejie,” Zuo Xingning said, handing her the nightgown. “Please put this on. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if you don’t.”

Chu Shiyin paused, then sat up and changed. By the time she settled back under the covers, the lights had dimmed.

In the darkness, Zuo Xingning asked, “Aren’t you going to put on body lotion?”

“Never mind,” Chu Shiyin replied, her voice hoarse despite not having called out much earlier, her tone languid. “The weather isn’t that dry.”

Zuo Xingning nodded in understanding, shifted closer, and buried her face against Chu Shiyin’s chest.

The blanket pulled over their heads created a small, warm cocoon, trapping their exhaled breath.

They chatted softly, their conversation circling back to the topic of “mountain climbing.”

Chu Shiyin asked, “Was it Lin Fei who wanted to go climbing?”

“Exactly! She mainly wanted to invite Sister Siya, and we were just a cover.”

Zuo Xingning’s hand traced Chu Shiyin’s silhouette through the fabric. “Jiejie, do you want to go? We could climb a different peak, one farther away from them.”

“Hmm,” Chu Shiyin replied noncommittally. “When are they planning to go?”

“The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow is the Winter Solstice, so the sun will rise late. Plus, we need to wrap up the show, so we can’t be tired. That’s why they chose the day after.”

“Alright.”

Chu Shiyin grasped Zuo Xingning’s hand and wrapped it around her lower back. “Stop fidgeting and go to sleep.”

The Winter Solstice was a major festival in Pingxia Mountain.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, signaling the end of the day’s work, the main event officially commenced.

The mutton soup, simmered all day, filled the air with its rich aroma, permeating the entire area. On the school’s playground, rows of “little radish heads” (children with shaved heads) had already gathered, squatting in anticipation.

In Pingxia Mountain, mutton soup was a traditional Winter Solstice dish. Before arriving, the production team had arranged for fresh mutton to be slaughtered early that morning and delivered, along with a Master chef skilled in preparing the soup.

The photography team, composed of members from both northern and southern regions, had spent the afternoon making dumplings and buying tangyuan (glutinous rice balls). These were now being cooked in the school cafeteria, awaiting serving.

However, few cared about anything else; everyone was focused on the playground.

The previous day, the Principal and his team had hastily constructed a makeshift stove from red bricks in the playground. Several iron pots were placed on top, becoming the source of today’s tantalizing aroma.

The Master chef, a burly man with swift movements, had kept his apron spotless throughout the day, a clear sign of his expertise.

Even without seeing it, one could tell the mutton soup, infused with medicinal herbs, was incredibly fragrant.

The children’s mouths watered so much they nearly drooled. The adults fared slightly better, remembering to swallow, but their attention had long since drifted. Their conversations, punctuated by occasional remarks like:

“This mutton soup smells amazing.”

“When will it be ready?”

When will it be ready?

The master chef sniffed the air, lifted the lid, stirred the bottom of the pot with a large ladle, and declared—

“Now!”

The crowd surged forward, even those who had pretended to keep their distance now jostling to get closer, as if they feared missing out.

But even in their eagerness, order prevailed: the young first, then the elderly, followed by the rest.

The young were the students, the elderly were the principal and village leaders, and the remaining crowd scrambled for their share.

Lin Fei had no intention of competing. She casually found a corner, stood with her hands clasped, her phoenix eyes curved in a smile.

As dusk deepened, the groundskeeper switched on the floodlights, but Lin Fei remained hidden in the shadows.

When Chu Shiyin emerged from the cafeteria and found her, the tangyuan in her bowl had cooled to a perfect, palatable temperature.

“Thank you,” Lin Fei said, accepting the bowl. Her eyes flickered behind Chu Shiyin. “Where’s Siya?”

“She’s tied up with some errands,” Chu Shiyin replied. “Why did you ask Xingning to persuade Siya to watch the sunrise with you?”

“Because… I think Siya listens to Zuo Xingning.”

So she resorted to a little trick.

Lin Fei lowered her gaze, a flicker of helplessness flashing through her eyes. “You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you?”

“Mm,” Chu Shiyin nodded slightly.

Yu Siya… even before graduating from university, she was a workaholic, and afterward, she devoted herself entirely to her career, dismissing everything else.

Outside of work, she had no patience for anyone, yet Zuo Xingning was the exception.

Even when Xingning bothered her with trivial matters, Yu Siya accepted them all, even if she wasn’t particularly pleased.

Chu Shiyin had long been curious, but asking Zuo Xingning yielded nothing.

She would only shake her head blankly, blink, and then smile, saying with a hint of smugness, “Maybe it’s because I’m just more likable~”

Her adorable demeanor was indeed endearing.

Chu Shiyin couldn’t resist kissing her, unwilling to shatter her illusion—

Yu Siya was fundamentally not that kind of person.

After reminiscing, Chu Shiyin smiled faintly and asked, “As a professional psychologist and Yu Siya’s ‘friend’ of over a decade, haven’t you ever tried to analyze this?”

“I’ve tried, but I can’t figure it out,” Lin Fei said with a shrug and a sigh. “Siya’s situation is the only thing I can’t understand. It’s almost like… it’s not even subjective.”

“Like what?” Chu Shiyin asked, not quite catching her words.

Lin Fei lowered her head to pop a glutinous rice ball into her mouth. “Nothing. I’m just rambling.”

Chu Shiyin raised an eyebrow, giving her a scrutinizing look. “How’s your relationship with Siya… any progress?”

Lin Fei paused, then forced a wry smile. “No progress at all.”

“That’s odd,” Chu Shiyin said, genuinely puzzled this time. “Last time I called for my follow-up appointment, Siya answered the phone, right? You two aren’t living together?”

Lin Fei shook her head. “That was because Siya’s apartment had a leaky roof and noisy renovations downstairs. I invited her over to my place for some peace and quiet.”

“Still no progress?”

Lin Fei chuckled, quickly finished her bowl of glutinous rice balls, and brushed past Chu Shiyin.

“There will be progress eventually.”

Having known Yu Siya since high school, Lin Fei felt she had her figured out.

Siya was exceptionally intelligent and socially adept in most situations, but when it came to romance, she was as dense as a block of wood.

It was still a cement-cast log, so thick it took two people to wrap their arms around it.

Yu Siya had poured her entire being—body, mind, and soul—into her career. For her, winning a project brought far more joy and a greater sense of accomplishment than any romantic relationship could.

This relentless drive inevitably took a toll on her health. The two years Chu Shiyin spent recuperating were also rare moments of rest for Yu Siya.

After her break, she returned to her old self, never giving love a second thought.

Lin Fei often thought Yu Siya was like a block of wood with six of its seven orifices open—utterly clueless about matters of the heart.

What Lin Fei wanted was a slow, steady stream, gradually carving out that final, unopened orifice.

It was going to be incredibly difficult.

Fortunately, with Lin Fei watching like a hawk, others had little chance.

Lin Fei smiled faintly as she returned her bowl to the cafeteria kitchen.

Being close to the water tower, the moon will only grow closer.

Lin Fei always left herself an escape route, sometimes even being overly cautious.

Though she had decided to “poke holes” in the window paper, she kept a fallback plan—something that allowed her to advance or retreat as needed:

Alcohol.

This idea had come to her long ago, inspired by Chu Shiyin.

Any foolish words spoken or foolish actions taken could be dismissed with a simple “I was drunk.” If that failed, she could even feign memory loss.

The mountain nights were always colder, so drinking a little wine to warm up while waiting for the sunrise seemed perfectly natural.

They could chat, share their feelings… Whatever was said could be attributed to the atmosphere.

It was the atmosphere, not my true intentions.

Not my true intentions…

“Have you been drinking?”

After escorting the children home one by one, Lin Fei returned exhausted. As she opened the bedroom door, a gust of wind carried a faint aroma of wine from outside.

She recognized it instantly—the homemade wine of the countryside, which she had tasted several times before.

This wine tasted unremarkable at first, but its aftertaste lingered.

Yu Siya, inexperienced with alcohol, had only discovered this after getting drunk.

Hearing Lin Fei’s voice, Yu Siya propped herself up, squinting against the sudden light. “I’m not drunk,” she mumbled, “just a little dizzy.”

Drunkards never admit they’re drunk.

The plan to watch the sunrise was likely ruined. Lin Fei sighed inwardly as she poured Yu Siya a cup of warm water. “No wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere. You were hiding away drinking! Where did you get this?”

Yu Siya named the person: a teacher from Pingxia Elementary School. After dinner, he had insisted on bringing over several mineral water bottles filled with his homemade wine as gifts for them.

Unable to refuse his overwhelming generosity, Yu Siya and the others reluctantly accepted. The man then produced a jug and cups, urging them to try the wine.

Having already accepted the wine, they figured a sip or two wouldn’t hurt.

Besides, the wine tasted surprisingly good—fragrant, mellow, and not at all bitter. As they chatted casually, they unconsciously drank more than they realized.

Yu Siya didn’t notice anything amiss until she stood up to leave and felt a sudden wave of dizziness.

Refusing to push her limits, she asked someone who hadn’t been drinking to drive her home.

In this state, she knew she was drunk, but she stubbornly refused to admit it to Lin Fei, as if acknowledging it would somehow put her at a disadvantage.

For some inexplicable reason, Yu Siya felt compelled to prove she wasn’t drunk.

She knew her drunkenness was undetectable. Her face remained pale, her breathing steady, and her steps firm—she appeared perfectly normal.

At most, her heart might beat faster, and her thoughts might become tangled like a ball of yarn, with occasional mental misfires… But who could tell if she didn’t reveal it?

Clutching the warm cup, Yu Siya’s eyes darted around the room before settling on the hiking backpack stacked in the corner.

“Lin Fei, let’s go hiking!”