The Little Bookworm Marked Her Ex-aunt - Chapter 38: Shu Yue, Are You Going to Keep Avoiding Me?

Chapter 38: Shu Yue, Are You Going to Keep Avoiding Me?

“Little Aunt, why are you here?”

Ji Shiyi’s appearance was truly a pleasant surprise.

Meng Zhiyu hadn’t seen her in days and eagerly approached her side, her eyes sparkling as she asked aloud. Seeing Ji Shiyi didn’t respond, she thought Ji Shiyi hadn’t heard clearly, so she smiled and repeated her question.

Shu Yue stood not far away, her nerves stretched tight, like she was hanging by a thin thread that might snap with any movement.

Meng Zhiyu and Ji Shiyi’s conversation tugged at that thread.

Every slight tremble pulled at her nerves, causing pain.

She instinctively wanted to pretend she saw nothing, but that was too hard, because among everyone, she spotted Ji Shiyi at a glance.

There was no way not to notice.

Ji Shiyi wore a simple white shirt today, its hem tucked into dark pants, her long hair swept to one side, revealing a clean, beautiful profile.

When she got out of the car, she carried a bag on her shoulder and held another bag in her hand. Shu Yue could tell it contained the book she had borrowed.

Ji Shiyi came to return the book.

The thought flashed through Shu Yue’s mind.

Shu Yue repeatedly told herself in her heart: Stay calm, you must stay calm.

She shouldn’t panic or flee. If anything, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Her rationality quickly replayed everything that happened after meeting Ji Shiyi, but Meng Zhiyu’s “Little Aunt” instantly dominated all her thoughts.

Her rationality dissolved, leaving only shock, astonishment, and unspeakable shame.

She instinctively lowered her head, slowed her steps, deliberately walking closer to the edge, trying to hide behind Lin Chu to mask her presence.

But Ji Shiyi saw her.

From a not-so-far distance, she clearly observed Shu Yue’s reactions.

Her flickering eyes, evasive gaze, deliberate misdirection, and the act of walking with her head down.

Ji Shiyi’s heart paused, like a breeze over water, stirring no ripples but churning the undercurrents beneath.

Despite this, she showed no unusual expression, only slowly turning her head to look at Meng Zhiyu. A slight smile curved her lips, her tone as gentle as usual: “I’m here for some business. I heard someone was filming a show, so I stopped by to check.”

“That’s such a coincidence!” Meng Zhiyu said excitedly. “We’re filming the show right now, and we just wrapped up. Little Aunt, want to grab dinner together?”

The director, overhearing their conversation, extended an invitation: “Boss Ji, it’s rare to meet like this. How about joining us for dinner?”

Ji Shiyi’s expression remained neutral, about to decline.

Then the director said to Zhou Miao: “Teacher Zhou, don’t leave yet. Come along. After troubling you all afternoon, I’d feel bad not treating you to dinner.”

Following the principle of never missing a free meal, Zhou Miao nodded: “Sure, no problem.”

With Zhou Miao’s agreement, the director turned to Ji Shiyi again: “Boss Ji, join us? I know a great authentic restaurant in the county. We’ll head there together.”

Ji Shiyi’s gaze briefly swept the group, lingering on Shu Yue for a moment before calmly saying: “Alright, thank you.”

The director beamed, speeding up to organize the wrap-up. After settling everything, he began arranging transport to the county.

After calculating, they realized they needed one more car to fit everyone.

“Right away,” the director said methodically. “I’ll make a call to get another car.”

“No need,” Ji Shiyi said proactively. “I drove here. I can take a few people.”

The director felt a bit embarrassed: “How could we trouble you?” How could they let Boss Ji play driver? She was a rare VIP, not someone you’d find easily.

“It’s fine,” she said lightly. “Let’s head out. Time matters more.”

With Ji Shiyi’s words so clear, the director didn’t push further and arranged: “Meng, you ride with Boss Ji. Teacher Zhou, split your group—half with us, half with Boss Ji.”

Zhou Miao started to arrange: “I’ll go with you. Little Yue, you…”

Before she finished, Shu Yue spoke up unusually: “Director, I’ll go with you too.”

Zhou Miao’s gaze, through her thin glasses, fell on Meng Zhiyu and Ji Shiyi. She nodded, sending Lin Chu off.

“You take two junior colleagues in Boss Ji’s car,” Zhou Miao said.

Lin Chu’s heart wept, but she couldn’t openly defy her mentor. She agreed and got into the car obediently.

Ji Shiyi watched Shu Yue walk away with Zhou Miao, her lips pressing together.

In the car, the two senior colleagues, though naive, stayed quietly obedient when it wasn’t their turn to speak or act.

So, from the village to the county, Lin Chu followed their lead, playing mute, pretending to be deaf, eyes on her nose, nose on her heart. She seemed present but had mentally checked out long ago.

The atmosphere wasn’t awkward but wasn’t relaxed either.

At first, Meng Zhiyu, fresh in the car, eagerly shared with Ji Shiyi, who listened with some interest.

Mostly, it was about the past few days of filming—how warm the villagers were, how delicious dinner was, how cute the dogs were.

Ji Shiyi didn’t interrupt, occasionally responding, her tone neither warm nor cold.

Halfway through the drive, Ji Shiyi’s car met the crew’s car on the road, each taking a lane, facing each other across the divide.

Lin Chu excitedly rolled down the window to wave at Shu Yue.

Shu Yue raised her hand to wave back.

Ji Shiyi, one hand on the steering wheel, glanced over. The moment their eyes met, Shu Yue’s faint smile froze. Ji Shiyi noticed she had somehow removed her glasses.

Her hand, casually resting on the wheel, tightened briefly.

Meng Zhiyu saw this too and let out a hum.

As the car continued forward, Meng Zhiyu picked up the conversation again.

Ji Shiyi furrowed her brow and said firmly: “Zhiyu, I’m driving.”

The warning in her tone was impossible for Meng Zhiyu to ignore. She fell silent, puzzled by her Little Aunt’s sudden change in attitude.

Lin Chu, oblivious on the surface, screamed internally, desperate to gossip but finding no one to share with. She silently swallowed the juicy, thrilling drama.

She nearly choked on it!

When they arrived, the director’s team was already in place. The group split into several tables, nearly filling the restaurant.

To avoid fans spotting them and causing a scene, the crew arranged to eat in the restaurant’s private courtyard.

When round tables and chairs were set up, it felt a bit like a village banquet.

Due to filming needs, Meng Zhiyu had to leave Ji Shiyi’s side and join her partner’s table.

Zhou Miao, avoiding the cameras, sat with Ji Shiyi, along with the director and a few staff members.

When it was Shu Yue’s turn to choose a seat, only the two spots next to Ji Shiyi remained.

She nudged Lin Chu.

Lin Chu, still digesting the drama and now forced to swallow more, turned to see Shu Yue’s pleading eyes. Bracing herself, she sat next to Ji Shiyi, between her and Shu Yue, sitting stiffly like she was in class.

The meal was torture for Lin Chu, like sitting on pins. The table’s delicious dishes held no appeal—she was too full from the drama.

Shu Yue wasn’t faring better.

Though Lin Chu sat between them, buffering her from Ji Shiyi, her heart remained a chaotic mess.

Aside from them, the table wasn’t quiet. People bantered and joked, keeping things lively.

Ji Shiyi spoke little, responding occasionally, her manners impeccable but carrying a faint sense of distance.

Shu Yue rarely saw this side of her.

She recalled the last time they ate with Principal Gu in the village—Ji Shiyi hadn’t been like this.

Was she in a bad mood too?

Why?

Was it, like Shu Yue, because she just learned about this?

Shu Yue poked at her rice with chopsticks, sitting quietly like a backdrop.

Dishes came and went, but Shu Yue only picked at her food twice before setting her chopsticks down, appetite gone.

The director noticed and asked with concern: “Little student, what’s wrong? Is the food not to your taste?”

Her comment drew the table’s attention. Heavens, Ji Shiyi definitely heard that. What would she think?

Shu Yue didn’t dare dwell on it, shaking her head awkwardly: “No, I’m just not hungry.”

“You worked all afternoon and aren’t hungry?” the director marveled. “You young folks are tough. Unlike us old folks, we get hungry fast and sleep little.”

Shu Yue didn’t respond, just shoveled two bites of rice, her mood and appetite low. Realizing she couldn’t force more down, she stopped.

Zhou Miao suddenly said: “Little Shu, since we’re in the county, grab something for me. I’ll send the list to your WeChat. Check it.”

Shu Yue stood immediately: “Okay!”

She hurried out of the restaurant, opened her phone at the entrance, and found not a shopping list but Zhou Miao’s caring message: “Go take a walk. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Shu Yue replied with a grateful thank you.

She figured Zhou Miao must have noticed something, but she had no time to care. Her mind was consumed by a single question occupying all her thoughts.

Wandering aimlessly through the county streets, brushing past all sorts of people, Shu Yue sat on a bench under a big tree after a while.

At this hour, aunties were dancing in the small square. Music blared from vibrating speakers, loud and chaotic, yet the dancers immersed themselves, moving joyfully.

Shu Yue’s gaze drifted blankly from one person to another. Without her glasses, the world looked blurry and distorted.

She lowered her head, pulling the glasses she’d taken off in the car from her pocket.

What a mess.

She shouldn’t have worn them this morning.

Her fingertips brushed the frame’s edge, and Ji Shiyi’s face flashed in her mind.

Shu Yue shook her head, tossing the memory aside.

Watching the aunties dance song after song, the food she’d forced down lost its effect, and her stomach growled.

Shu Yue clutched her stomach, deciding to find something to eat, anything to make do.

Standing from the bench, she started back but froze after a few steps, her feet nailed to the ground.

Why was Ji Shiyi here?

Instinctively, Shu Yue turned to hide.

Her phone rang, startling her like thunder, making her heart jump.

She fumbled for her phone, ready to answer without thinking, but froze when she saw Ji Shiyi’s name. She neither wanted to pick up nor could bear to hang up. Trapped in a tight space, she frantically lowered the volume, pretending nothing happened.

When the call window faded and the chat showed “Call Canceled,” she exhaled in relief.

Above that, her chat with Ji Shiyi from last night lingered on “Good night,” carrying a touch of natural warmth.

Now, it felt jarringly out of place.

Shu Yue never deleted chat histories with others.

Now, staring at her conversation with Ji Shiyi, she felt an urge for the first time to delete it all, leaving nothing behind.

As if doing so would erase the shame in her heart, like it never existed.

Switching from the chat to the list, her finger long-pressed the white bar. As the delete option popped up, a new message appeared.

“Shu Yue, are you going to keep avoiding me forever?”

Her heart clenched, and Shu Yue looked back. Through the dancing crowd and noisy music, Ji Shiyi stood in the same spot.

Her left hand held a shopping bag, hanging naturally by her leg, her right hand held her phone, and her gaze lifted from the screen to land directly on Shu Yue’s face.

Shu Yue’s body surged with the urge to flee again.

She couldn’t say what she was running from.

Just seeing Ji Shiyi, thinking of her identity, her relation to Meng Zhiyu, their past actions, and the skipped heartbeat she felt for her…

Fleeing felt like the only choice, effortlessly consuming all her nerves.

Shu Yue knew she preferred simple formulas, clear algorithms, solid results, and straightforward answers.

Her current situation, everything tied to Ji Shiyi, pointed to a completely different direction.

Chaos, trouble, entanglement.

Everything she couldn’t handle.

But Ji Shiyi’s gaze, stretching across the small square, was the same as always amid the chaos and mess.

It was a quiet, steady, gentle look, carrying an unspeakable patience—calm with an indescribable acceptance.

Ji Shiyi raised her hand, pointing at her phone.

Shu Yue looked down.

The screen showed Ji Shiyi’s chat window switching to “Typing…”

Shu Yue waited anxiously, her mind swirling with guesses. Would Ji Shiyi scold her? Hate her? What was Ji Shiyi’s reaction to this?

Thoughts flashed too fast to grasp.

The silently refreshing message delivered the final verdict.

“Shu Yue, I know this is hard for you to accept, and I fully understand why you want to avoid me.”

“But can you please not keep avoiding me?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Shu Yue. The one who knowingly made a mistake is me, not you.”

“If someone has to back off in this matter, it should be me.”

These words took a long time to appear on Shu Yue’s screen, one by one.

Shu Yue saw that after each sentence, the chat window returned to “Typing…”

A breeze blew, and the music paused briefly. The crowd’s laughter and noise faded too.

Ji Shiyi’s words answered Shu Yue’s questions clearly.

Shu Yue didn’t even need to ask that one question:

Did you know about my relationship with Meng Zhiyu from the start?

Ji Shiyi’s confession explained everything.

Shu Yue thought her first feeling would be anger, the kind from being deceived and kept in the dark.

But when Ji Shiyi sent her final message, placed the shopping bag on a stone pillar, looked at her, and stepped back, it wasn’t anger that warmed her chest but tears welling in her eyes.

Ji Shiyi said:

Be mad at me if you want, but don’t punish yourself. I bought some bread. Eat if you’re hungry.

Shu Yue lowered her head, turned away, not daring to wipe her tears, afraid Ji Shiyi would notice.

That was unfair.

How could this person be like this?

“Little girl,” an auntie called from behind.

Shu Yue turned and saw her approach with the shopping bag, a kind smile on her face, speaking in a local accent: “Someone asked me to give this to you. Is it you?”

Hesitating, Shu Yue took it and said thank you.

She opened the bag. Besides bread and milk, there was a pack of tissues and a small bottle of mosquito spray.

Shu Yue gripped the bag’s edge tightly, looking toward where Ji Shiyi had been. Her figure was gone, as she said, retreating.

A massive, unspeakable emotion surged like a wild tide, flooding her lungs, reaching her mouth and nose. In the chaotic mire, Shu Yue opened her eyes and saw a white flower, somehow blooming from withered soil.

It was so beautiful, so pure.

But it grew in a place it never should have, a wrong place, one that shouldn’t have existed from the start.

Amid deep shame and a crashing collapse, Shu Yue finally named that skipped heartbeat from that summer afternoon in the village library, amid the slow hum of the fan.

She had done the most disgusting thing.

After deciding to cut Meng Zhiyu out of her world, she developed feelings for Meng Zhiyu’s Little Aunt.

Shu Yue couldn’t accept this at all.

Nausea stuck in her throat, wanting to retch but unable to. She felt filthy, betraying her rationality and dragging Ji Shiyi into this mess.

She promised to step out of her old world, to move forward, thinking she’d reached new ground, only to realize it was just an extension of the old.

She was such a terrible person. She hadn’t handled anything well, let alone her own heart.

Self-judgment chained Shu Yue, the caring shopping bag heavy like iron, making her anguish worse.

It took great effort to breathe fresh air through her nose, her anxious heart pounding. Her fingers touched the phone screen, knowing she should reply something, not let the chat end here.

But she typed and deleted endlessly, unable to say or explain anything.

Was she mad at Ji Shiyi? Maybe a little. Mad that she knew everything but didn’t say, mad that even now, she was so gentle and considerate.

She wanted to ask Ji Shiyi: When did you know? Why didn’t you tell me? All these days, how did you feel watching me?

The words reached her lips but wouldn’t come out.

She didn’t dare ask.

Whatever the answer, Shu Yue feared hearing it.

She was angriest at herself, for her stupidity, incompetence, and dodging. Even now, she made Ji Shiyi worry.

Countless thoughts rose and fell. Shu Yue lowered her eyes and picked up her phone again.

Sy: I got the bread.

Sy: Miss Ji, thank you.

When the little bird avatar appeared on her lock screen, Ji Shiyi felt some joy and some hesitation. Seeing the precise reply, even she had to admit she felt a bit lost and disappointed.

In nearly thirty years, Ji Shiyi felt this way facing someone for the first time.

Her lashes drooped, her gaze unclear.

Her fingers tapped the keyboard, replying with a single “Good.”

Putting her phone in her pocket, Ji Shiyi walked back to the restaurant, through the main hall to the courtyard corridor, where a figure suddenly blocked her.

Meng Zhiyu looked at her.

“Little Aunt,” she said calmly, “what’s your relationship with Shu Yue?”

Ji Shiyi wasn’t surprised by the sudden question.

Meng Zhiyu might have thought she hid it well, but with Ji Shiyi’s perception, she had long noticed Meng Zhiyu’s attention.

From when she stepped out to take a call at dinner, Meng Zhiyu had been watching.

“I thought you’d ask later.”

Ji Shiyi’s expression didn’t change, calm like a deep sea, hiding whatever lay beneath its still surface.

“Zhiyu, you’re less patient than I thought.”

Ji Shiyi’s gaze drifted to the courtyard outside. Meng Zhiyu’s nominal girlfriend was looking over, and the crew’s cameras were set up. Though it was break time, with so many eyes, there was always a risk of leaks.

Meng Zhiyu bit her lip, provoked by Ji Shiyi’s calm demeanor.

“Little Aunt!” Her voice rose uncontrollably, then lowered as she realized her mistake. “You know, don’t you? Shu Yue is my girlfriend.”

Ji Shiyi’s expression finally shifted, her brow raising, a trace of irony in her calm eyes.

“Is she? I thought your ‘girlfriend’ was sitting at the dinner table.”

“It’s just a collaboration with her,” Meng Zhiyu frowned, explaining quickly. “Shu Yue and I are only temporarily apart. Once I sort things out… we’ll get back together.”

Ji Shiyi listened quietly, not interrupting.

When Meng Zhiyu finished, she asked: “So, Zhiyu, what’s your purpose in telling me this?”

“Shu Yue is mine,” Meng Zhiyu said firmly, her words speeding up. “You’re high-status, with great conditions, not lacking alphas, right? Don’t contact her anymore. Why meddle in a junior’s feelings? Competing with a junior, Little Aunt, if this got out… it wouldn’t look good.”

Ji Shiyi’s gaze finally turned cold, icing over bit by bit.

“Zhiyu, do you know what’s truly improper?”

She stared at Meng Zhiyu, speaking word by word.

“Hurting someone you like, showing no remorse, and defining a relationship based on your own wishes.”

Seeing Meng Zhiyu grow more uneasy, Ji Shiyi sighed softly, softening her stern tone.

“Zhiyu, your arrogant bluster is what’s truly improper.”

With that, Ji Shiyi patted Meng Zhiyu’s shoulder and walked past her.

Meng Zhiyu turned, watching her sit down as if nothing happened, calm and composed, just like when she stepped in for her mother to settle a kindergarten fight over a game.

Meng Zhiyu couldn’t tell what her Little Aunt truly thought of Shu Yue.

If she had feelings, how could she be so calm, so steady?

What happened between them to create this connection?

Amid tangled thoughts, Meng Zhiyu realized the clumsy, sluggish bird in her eyes might really be flying to a world she didn’t know.

Her face paled, frozen in place.

Some long-held confidence wavered at that moment.

No. Meng Zhiyu thought, she absolutely couldn’t let this happen.