The Cold Queen is My Exclusive Little Snack - Chapter 8

Chu Shiyin was held back by fans, ultimately allowing Zuo Xingning to overtake her.

The weather in Beicheng was dry and cool. The nanny van parked by the roadside, its car stereo playing a cheerful pop song. Zuo Xingning opened the door, greeted Lizi, and climbed inside.

With the air conditioning off, Zuo Xingning rolled down the window to let in some fresh air, resting her forearm on the sill as she gazed outside.

Chu Shiyin had seemed a little off just now, though Zuo Xingning couldn’t quite put her finger on what was wrong. It was like seeing a balloon that looked normal until it was fully inflated, revealing its true, different shape.

Zuo Xingning turned to look at Lizi, who was humming along to the music, completely oblivious. Her expression showed no particular concern.

So, I’m probably just overthinking it, Zuo Xingning thought. After all, Lizi doesn’t seem worried at all…

Unable to make sense of her sudden unease, Zuo Xingning suppressed the thought. Her gaze drifted, carried by the night breeze, toward the crowd waiting outside the airport.

Clearly, they weren’t the only celebrities arriving in Beicheng tonight. The glowing light sticks scattered across the ground resembled fallen stars, their colors helping the girls identify their respective fandoms. Gathered in small groups, they chatted excitedly.

Zuo Xingning idly counted the colors of the glow sticks, wondering if any Escape to Freedom guests were among those being awaited. First came Chu Shiyin’s light blue, as most of the crowd had already entered the airport, leaving only a few stragglers peering around outside. Then came orange, grass green, bright yellow…

Bright yellow?

Zuo Xingning blinked, her attention drawn by a flash of color in her peripheral vision.

A group of girls hurried over, frantically helping each other light up the small sun-shaped headbands they wore. One of them had a headband with large, rounded characters, but her luck was poor. The lights flickered twice as soon as she switched it on, then abruptly went out.

Clearly broken, the girl dejectedly removed the headband, fiddled with it in her hand, and finally tucked it into her bag.

I didn’t get a good look at the characters…

Zuo Xingning instinctively leaned out the car window, but before she could even extend half her neck, someone tugged her shirt and pulled her back.

“Get back in! Teacher Chu is coming out,” Lizi said, stretching her arm to close the window before darting around to the other side to open the car door.

Chu Shiyin emerged.

The crowd surged forward like a tidal wave, then receded just as quickly, retreating down the steps one by one, revealing Chu Shiyin at the center.

Tall, burly security guards formed a protective ring around her, creating a safe zone. She clutched a thick stack of letters in her hands, so many that Yu Siya had to take the overflow from fans behind her.

As they made their way through the crowd to the car, Chu Shiyin smiled and waved goodbye to her fans. The car door slammed shut, sealing them off in another world. The faces outside the tinted windows blurred into indistinct shapes, leaving only the pale blue glow sticks waving in the air as clear points of light.

The scattered lights gradually coalesced into a single blue mass, but as the car sped away, the luminous cluster shattered like bubbles.

Chu Shiyin removed her hairpin and clutched it in her palm, letting her long hair cascade down in loose waves. Strands half-tucked behind her ear framed her face as she leaned against the window, seemingly resting.

The lingering roar of the crowd still echoed in her ears. Yu Siya’s deliberately hushed voice sounded like murmurs from a dream. The driver turned off the music, and soon the interior lights dimmed as well.

So quiet.

As the car passed under an overpass, the sudden shift from light to shadow caught Zuo Xingning’s eye. She glanced back and glimpsed a tense jawline.

Too quiet.

The silence was so profound that the earlier spectacle felt like a dream, making the solitude even more profound.

Does Chu Shiyin feel this way too?

As expected… I still can’t relax.

After showering, Zuo Xingning sat cross-legged on her bed, meticulously typing “how to become happy” into the search bar.

Ignoring the endless stream of ads, she scrolled through several pages until she finally found two seemingly viable methods:

1. Distract yourself. 2. Eat sweets.

Although Chu Shiyin didn’t have a sweet tooth, sugar could stimulate dopamine release in the brain… Well, let’s try it and see!

Zuo Xingning jumped off the bed, hastily changed into two pieces of clothing, and took the elevator downstairs.

Just as the elevator doors closed, someone emerged from another elevator traveling upward and knocked on the door of her neighbor’s apartment.

“Shiyin, it’s me.”

“…”

“A rare visitor indeed,” Chu Shiyin said, sizing her up. “Did Siya send you?”

“No, I contacted her myself,” the woman replied. Dressed in a white knit top and dark jeans, her phoenix-shaped eyes curved slightly, radiating an innate warmth that drew people in.

“I’m in Beicheng for a business trip. I happened to see your airport photos online and thought I’d drop by.”

“No wonder…” Chu Shiyin led her into the room. “Would you like some water?”

“I just finished a meeting and drank my fill of water. I’m only here to check on you briefly before I leave,” Lin Fei said, settling onto the sofa. “How are you doing? Are you alright?”

“I’m managing. Dr. Lin’s treatment has been effective, and I’m able to process my emotions on my own.”

“That sounds promising. Siya mentioned you have a new roommate?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a good sign, though I didn’t expect it to happen so soon.” Lin Fei smiled. “Would you mind telling me about her?”

“After a month apart, your curiosity seems to have grown,” Chu Shiyin retorted, her tone neither harsh nor yielding. As her attending physician, Lin Fei had always maintained a perfect balance, subtly probing her psyche without crossing the line into intrusiveness.

“You actually know her. I mentioned her before—the girl who pulled me out of the mire when I was fifteen…”

Looking back from the vantage point of twenty-eight, the memories before fifteen felt as distant as if they belonged to a past life.

Chu Shiyin stood on the rushing river of time, dissecting her past from an observer’s perspective. Memories too far gone had faded like old photographs, their colors bleached by time. The only vivid hue remaining was that splash of pink.

The dress, with its delicate color and texture foreign to the mountain village, looked incongruous on the young girl. Standing beside fifteen-year-old Chu Shiyin, they seemed to belong to different worlds.

“…In short, she didn’t recognize me.” A faint smile curved Chu Shiyin’s lips, even as she unconsciously concealed her emotions from Lin Fei. “Or maybe she just doesn’t remember at all…”

“Speaking of which, I think I finally understand why you recommended I get a pet.”

The topic shifted abruptly, yet Lin Fei understood her meaning perfectly.

Chu Shiyin was the most challenging patient she had ever treated.

Other patients, no matter their circumstances, were tethered to this world by connections—good or bad—that could be leveraged to keep them grounded. Chu Shiyin, however, was unburdened by such ties. On stage, she was a dazzling celebrity; off stage, she was a wireless kite, ready to drift away with the wind at any moment.

Lin Fei needed to quickly establish a kite string.

Building bonds with people was always a long and arduous process. That’s why she had suggested Chu Shiyin get a pet.

A pet’s love for its master was genuine and fervent—the most likely thing to serve as that kite string. Unfortunately, Chu Shiyin had refused, clearly aware of her own mental state and choosing to let it drift.

This attitude once gave Lin Fei a headache. Then, on a damp, rainy day, Yu Siya called to say that Chu Shiyin had found a dying kitten in a muddy ditch by the roadside.

Fate often defies logic. The dying kitten had found itself a free meal ticket and, in its brief life, had anchored a rootless soul.

Yet its inevitable death in a decade or two loomed like a ticking time bomb for Chu Shiyin. Before it exploded, she needed to find a more stable anchor.

She saw a glimmer of hope.

Knock, knock—

Someone knocked on the door. Lin Fei glanced at the time. “Teacher Chu is truly a busy person. I’m glad you’re feeling better. I should be going now. For the next checkup… if possible, I’d like to meet that girl.”

“There’s no need. Why would a healthy person need to see a doctor?”

Chu Shiyin remained seated on the sofa, unmoved. Lin Fei shrugged. “Alright then, see you later.”

She rose to leave, opening the door for the person waiting outside. “Siya, I… Oh, you must be?”

“Hello, Jiejie. My name is Zuo Xingning.”

“Zuo Xingning… Ah, you’re just as Shi Yin described—a lovely girl.”

“I’m Lin Fei. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“What are you still looking at? She’s already gone.”

“I’m coming in now—” Zuo Xingning closed the door. “Jiejie, who was that woman just now?”

“Lin Fei. She told you her name, right?” Chu Shiyin popped open a soda can with a psst. She rarely drank cold drinks, except when she was feeling irritable. “If you’re curious, why not just call her back? You two exchanged WeChat contacts, didn’t you?”

Zuo Xingning shook her head vigorously. “Forget it, forget it. I just sensed something indescribable about her aura. I was a little curious.”

“Indescribable?” Chu Shiyin snorted. “She’s a doctor. If you don’t want her to see right through you, you’d better not let your curiosity get the better of you.”

“A doctor…” No wonder she seemed a bit intimidating. Zuo Xingning shivered, her jacket rustling as she moved her neck.

Chu Shiyin finally noticed the bulge around her waist. “What’s in your pockets? They’re stuffed full.”

“Candy. I thought they might have some here, so I checked on my phone. Turns out there’s a store nearby that sells it.”

“Jiejie, do you want some?” Zuo Xingning pulled out a bag of milk candy from her pocket, tore it open, and offered it to Chu Shiyin. “It’ll cheer you up.”

“Oh, what’s this? Trying to pacify me like a child?” Chu Shiyin took the bag. “I can’t believe they actually sell this here.”

“Right? I never thought I’d find this brand of milk candy here. I couldn’t even find it when I was studying out of town. Maybe it’s because Beicheng is closer to my hometown province that they sell it here? Jiejie, you gave me half a bag the other day, so I figured you must like it if you buy it often…”

Zuo Xingning chattered on, her voice suddenly trailing off.

Wait a minute… This brand was a specialty of her hometown, rarely seen outside the province. Sure, you could order it online, but most people from other regions wouldn’t even know about it. Her college roommates had never heard of it. So how did Chu Shiyin know about it?

…It was almost too easy to guess what Zuo Xingning was thinking.

Chu Shiyin glanced at her, but had no intention of answering. Her conversation with Lin Fei had stirred up unpleasant memories, and the candy was a welcome distraction.

As she tore open the wrapper, the rich, milky aroma instantly filled her senses. A timeless favorite among children, it now tasted cloyingly sweet to her.

Perhaps it was because she had never truly been a child.

For Chu Shiyin, childhood was a dark, endless rain, where the sky and earth blurred into indistinguishable blackness. Quicksand-like mud threatened to swallow her whole, its shadow clinging to her like a bone-deep curse even in adulthood.

This sweetness was the only weapon she had against it.

Even though she didn’t have a sweet tooth, Chu Shiyin always kept this brand of milk candy at home. But before she could eat much, it would often become “close to expiration”… These past two days, with a “little hamster” staying at her place, the problem had been perfectly resolved.

Chu Shiyin took a sip of water to wash away the sticky sweetness. “Thank you for the candy. We have filming tomorrow, so we should get some rest.”

This was clearly a dismissal. A clever person would have taken the hint, but Zuo Xingning wasn’t quite that sharp. She still had something to say.

“Jiejie,” she said, blinking her eyes and softening her tone into a coquettish purr, “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Chu Shiyin paused, wondering if she’d misheard. But when she looked at Zuo Xingning’s unusually earnest expression, she asked, “Why?”

“Because…”

Because I’m scared to stay in the hotel alone, because I’m worried someone might break into your room, because I’m nervous about filming tomorrow…

In the blink of an eye, Zuo Xingning could have conjured countless excuses.

Chu Shiyin was remarkably patient with her, her occasional coldness masking a willingness to grant almost any request. Zuo Xingning had long noticed this and originally intended to exploit it.

But when she gazed into Chu Shiyin’s dark, fathomless eyes, she suddenly couldn’t bring herself to lie.

It felt as if any falsehood would push her further away from Chu Shiyin.

“Because… on the way back, you looked so lonely, Jiejie.”

“I wanted to keep you company.”