The Love-Hate Relationship Between the Female Lead and the Second Female Lead - Chapter 7

Wen Shijun hastily dried himself, quickly donned his nightclothes, and prepared for bed. However, he hesitated when he saw the narrow bed.

Divine Physician Zhang lived alone, without a wife or children, and the bed was only large enough for one person. Although Wen Shijun and Ji Zining were both petite women, sleeping together would undoubtedly be cramped.

Sister, it’s late. Let’s go to sleep, Ji Zining said, shifting backward to make room for Wen Shijun.

Watching Ji Zining’s gesture, Wen Shijun couldn’t shake the bizarre feeling that she was a wife waiting for her husband to come to bed.

Snapping out of his reverie, Wen Shijun banished the thought from his mind, blew out the candle, and climbed into bed in the dark.

As soon as he settled in, Wen Shijun felt Ji Zining’s hand brush against his. When he lay down, their bodies pressed tightly together.

Though this wasn’t their first time sharing a bed, they had never been this close before.

Wen Shijun turned his back, his heart pounding uncontrollably. His hands fidgeted nervously, unsure where to rest.

Sister, Ji Zining murmured, her breath warm against his ear.

Wen Shijun forced himself to sound calm. What is it?

You’re lying on my hair.

Oh, I’m so sorry! Wen Shijun quickly sat up and apologized profusely.

It’s fine, Ji Zining said, smoothing her hair back. Her eyes fixed intently on Wen Shijun.

Then, in a pitiful voice, she added, Sister, it’s so cold…

Huh? Wen Shijun was momentarily stunned. Realizing what she meant, he quickly pulled the blanket over Ji Zining.

Autumn nights were cold, and with the window directly above the bed, a chill always lingered.

Still cold, Ji Zining murmured, her slightly pouting lips and shimmering eyes fixed on Wen Shijun.

Wen Shijun turned to grab a shawl from the side to cover her, but before he could, Ji Zining leaped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

Sister, no need for all that trouble, Ji Zining said contentedly. Just hold me.

Wen Shijun’s hands hovered awkwardly, unsure where to place them as he stood frozen, letting her cling to him. Moonlight streamed through the gauze window, draping a silvery veil over Ji Zining’s hair. She was pressed so close, wearing only a thin nightgown, that Wen Shijun could feel her curves, her slender waist, and the soft fullness of her chest. Overwhelmed by nervousness, he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Seeing his awkwardness, Ji Zining smiled and gently pulled him backward until they were both lying down. She nestled against his chest, her arms around his neck. Amused by his stiff, tense posture, she closed her eyes with a faint smile and whispered, Good night, Sister.

Wen Shijun remained rigid for a moment, ensuring she was asleep before slowly placing his hand on her back and gently pulling her closer, as if afraid to wake her.

Ning’er, come, these buns are delicious. Have some more, Chu Mohuan said, placing a steamed bun into Ji Zining’s bowl.

Thank you, Brother Chu, Ji Zining replied, but as she reached for the bun, she glanced at Wen Shijun. Noticing his darkening expression, she sensed trouble and quickly returned the bun to Chu Mohuan’s bowl.

Brother Chu, the porridge is enough for me. I couldn’t eat any more.

How can porridge be enough? You’ll be hungry later. Come, have some more. You’re so thin you need to build up your strength, Chu Mohuan insisted, trying to place another bun in Ji Zining’s bowl, but she stopped him.

Wen Shijun took a large bite of his bun, inwardly seething as he watched the pair’s back-and-forth, their intimate exchanges making him feel like an oversized third wheel. The scene was particularly grating on his nerves.

He swallowed the rest of his bun in one gulp, utterly baffled by what Ji Zining saw in that guy.

Chu Mohuan was undeniably handsome—dashing and refined, like a jade tree swaying in the wind. Wen Shijun didn’t know about his literary skills, but they couldn’t be lacking. As for martial prowess, it went without saying Chu Mohuan was the undisputed leader of this world. Liking him might even be understandable.

But still! Ji Zining! He’ll take your life later on! And you still like him so much?!

Lost in these thoughts, Wen Shijun didn’t notice when a bun got stuck in his throat.

Wen Shijun clutched his throat, his face flushed crimson.

Ji Zining grabbed a nearby water glass and handed it to him, gently patting his back until he swallowed. Are you okay? she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Wen Shijun shook his head and took another sip of water.

Ji Zining continued to check on him until she was sure he was fine before settling back into her chair, muttering, Sister, you don’t have to rush when eating steamed buns. Take your time and be careful not to choke.

Mm, Wen Shijun replied, his gaze softening as he met Ji Zining’s worried eyes. The nameless unease in his heart dissipated.

Sister, try this crystal steamed dumpling, Ji Zining offered.

Wen Shijun picked up a dumpling and ate it. It was indeed delicious.

You should try one too, Wen Shijun said, placing the steamer in front of Ji Zining. A bowl of porridge isn’t enough for breakfast. You’re still weak, so eat more.

Ji Zining, who had previously refused to eat more, now ate nearly half of the steamed dumplings in front of her.

Chu Mohuan watched the two of them, feeling like an outsider.

Yet he couldn’t shake his confusion. Just a few months ago, Wen Shijun had treated Ji Zining with disdain and hatred. Now, they were as close as biological sisters, their affection for each other palpable.

Last night, Chu Mohuan had worried that Wen Shijun might bully Ji Zining, but there had been no sound from their room, and the lights had been turned off early.

Chu Mohuan couldn’t understand women’s thoughts at all.

Still, it was good that the two were getting along so well. Su Huai was the crown prince’s legally wedded consort, so divorce was out of the question. If Su Huai could come to terms with it and Chu Mohuan welcomed Ning’er into his household, the two sisters living harmoniously together would be a beautiful thing.

Chu Mohuan was basking in this pleasant thought, completely unaware that if Wen Shijun knew what he was thinking, she might grab a kitchen knife and hack at his face to see just how thick his skin really was.

After breakfast, it was time for Ji Zining to take her medicine. But Divine Physician Zhang had gone up the mountain to gather herbs, Chu Mohuan was busy arranging security details, and Ji Zining’s old illness had flared up, forcing her to remain in bed. With no one to watch the simmering medicine pot in the kitchen, Wen Shijun volunteered to keep an eye on it.

Ji Zining stood by the window, watching Wen Shijun tending the fire pit in the distance when a figure slipped silently into the room.

The newcomer clasped their hands in a respectful bow before Ji Zining. Manor Lord, they said respectfully.

Is it done? Ji Zining asked calmly.

We await only the Manor Lord’s command.

Very well, you may leave.

The figure departed as silently as they had arrived. Leaves rustled through the open window, filling the room with an eerie stillness broken only by the whisper of the wind, as if nothing had transpired.

Wen Shijun poured the freshly brewed medicine into a white porcelain bowl and carried it into the room. He found Ji Zining asleep on the bed.

Approaching her, he hesitated, unsure how to address her. Calling her by her full name felt too formal, while intimate names like Zining or Ning’er wouldn’t come naturally. As he struggled with this dilemma, Ji Zining opened her eyes.

Sister, Ji Zining said, sitting up and gazing at Wen Shijun with bright, clear eyes.

The medicine is ready. Drink it.

Ji Zining sat at the table, ready to down the bitter concoction in one gulp, but Wen Shijun stopped her.

It’s still hot. Let it cool first. He stirred the medicine with a spoon, trying to hasten the cooling process.

Wen Shijun stared at the bowl of dark, bitter-looking liquid, about to get up and find a piece of candy to help her swallow it, when Ji Zining took the bowl and drained it in a single gulp.

Doesn’t… this taste bitter? Wen Shijun asked, surprised.

I’m used to it, Ji Zining replied, her expression unchanged.

Having grown up steeped in medicinal brews, she had consumed more medicine than meals. This small bowl was nothing to her.

Wen Shijun gazed at Ji Zining’s calm face, a pang of sympathy striking his heart. Wait here, he said.

He hurried to the storage chest, rummaged through it, and retrieved a small box. Bringing it to Ji Zining, he took out a piece of candy and placed it in her hand.

This candy is from Yangzhou. It’s very sweet—it’ll take away the bitterness, Wen Shijun said, pressing the candy into her palm.

Ji Zining stared blankly at the candy in her hand.

Eat it. Why aren’t you eating it? It’s clean, Wen Shijun said, worried she might suspect he had poisoned it.

Ji Zining put the candy in her mouth. The clear sweetness of the candy immediately diluted the bitter taste of the medicine.

She rarely ate candy, not because she disliked it, but because the medicine she had to drink was so frequent and so bitter. No amount of candy could dispel the lingering bitterness in her mouth, and over time, she had lost the desire to eat it altogether.

After all these years, the first piece of candy she ate was given to her by Wen Shijun.

Here, take them all, Wen Shijun said, placing the candy box in Ji Zining’s hand. Have one after taking your medicine. It’ll make it much easier. With that, he picked up the white porcelain bowl and left the room.

Ji Zining stared at the candy box in her hand for a long moment. After a while, she didn’t throw it away but carefully put it away.

Wen Shijun, having finished washing the dishes, was about to help Divine Physician Zhang wash the medicinal herbs when a group of people suddenly burst through the door.

These men were clearly hostile, their faces hidden behind masks and their bodies completely concealed in black robes. Each carried a gleaming, oversized saber.

Sensing danger, Wen Shijun raced back to the room, grabbed Ji Zining’s hand, and pulled her toward the small back door.

Run! We’re being hunted! Wen Shijun explained.

Ji Zining quietly followed behind them.

The black-robed men stormed through the thatched hut but found no trace of the pair. They immediately gave chase through the back door.

Wen Shijun and Ji Zining were both women. Though Wen Shijun ran swiftly, she had to consider Ji Zining’s pace. Before long, their pursuers began to close in.

Wen Shijun pulled out the wooden stick he had picked up and faced them in a fighting stance. Although Su Huai was born into a military family and her body was in decent shape, Wen Shijun was a modern man with no martial arts training whatsoever. How could he possibly have experienced an assassination attempt before?

As Wen Shijun stared at the sharp blades before him, fear gripped his heart. Yet he pulled Ji Zining behind him, forcing himself to maintain a calm facade as he faced the attackers, hoping to negotiate.

My father is Great General Wei Wu. We can satisfy any demand you have. Please, spare us. The fact that they hadn’t attacked immediately suggested they weren’t after their lives.

Someone wants you both dead. Who cares who your father is? Even if he were the King of Heaven himself, he’d still leave his life here today! Your lives, now! With that, the attackers swarmed forward.

Wen Shijun was speechless. Do villains in novels always have to make a speech before killing someone?

Perhaps due to her protagonist’s aura, none of the seemingly fierce and highly skilled black-clad figures managed to land a single blow on her. One even tripped over a pebble!

Wen Shijun finally felt the full force of her protagonist’s halo.

At last, she thought gleefully, I have my golden finger, protagonist’s luck, and all those other plot armor advantages!

But Ji Zining wasn’t so fortunate. A deep gash had been slashed across her arm, bl00d gushing uncontrollably from beneath her sleeve, staining her pristine white robes a stark crimson.

Ji Zining closed her eyes, bracing for the next blow.

What are you waiting for? Get up! Wen Shijun shouted, using a sturdy stick to forcefully block the descending blade.

Wen Shijun knew she couldn’t hold out for long. The stick was too thin with enough force, the blade would cleave right through it.

Wen Shijun stared at the cracked staff, split by the blade, and felt despair rising within him.

The guards were gone, Chu Mohuan was nowhere to be seen, and Ji Zining, the only one present, was no match for him. He was utterly isolated and helpless. One more strike, and he would be cleaved in two.

Perhaps Wen Shijun’s protagonist aura finally kicked in, because Chu Mohuan suddenly appeared.

Just like in every heroic rescue scene in dramas, Chu Mohuan delivered a powerful kick, sending the door crashing open. All heads turned toward the entrance.

There stood Chu Mohuan, clad in black robes, a longsword in hand, backlit by the light, looking like a celestial being descending from the heavens.

Wen Shijun had no time to admire the spectacle. He strained to block the sword before him, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Bang! The usually frail Ji Zining hurled a water pot at the black-robed man, striking him squarely in the face.

Sister, run! Ji Zining grabbed Wen Shijun’s hand and pulled him toward the exit.

The injured assailant didn’t lose consciousness. A crimson gash above his eye betrayed his injury, but he quickly recovered and lunged at them in fury.

Fortunately, Chu Mohuan stepped forward to intercept him, engaging the man in a fierce struggle. The black-robed man was no match for Chu Mohuan, falling within a few moves.

Chu Mohuan held the assailant at bay, buying Ji Zining and Wen Shijun precious time to escape.

Ji Zining grabbed Wen Shijun and raced uphill. Divine Physician Zhang’s residence was secluded, surrounded by villagers too weak to defend themselves. If they sought help from them, the small village might not even survive until tomorrow.

Both were terrified by what had just happened, fleeing blindly in panic.

Wen Shijun glanced back and saw a man in black closing in. He cursed inwardly.

What’s going on? Isn’t Chu Mohuan the Male Lead? Shouldn’t he have defeated the enemy with a single move, earning the gratitude of two girls—especially the woman who adores him—making us even more devoted?

Why are we still in such a desperate situation?!

They dared not slow their pace. The black-clad pursuer was clearly injured, bl00d dripping from the hem of his robe.

The chase led them to a cliff’s edge. Before them lay a sheer drop into dense forest, while the black-clad figure closed in from behind. Wen Shijun prayed desperately for Chu Mohuan to arrive quickly.

But this time, his prayers went unanswered. The black-clad figure cornered them. In a desperate attempt to defend himself, Wen Shijun grabbed a rock and hurled it at the attacker, warning, I advise you to let us go. Our guards will be here any moment, and you won’t fare well.

The black-clad figure sneered dismissively, raised his broadsword, and slashed at Wen Shijun.

This time, Wen Shijun’s protagonist aura worked its magic again. The black-clad assailant, who had been so arrogant just moments before, tripped over a pebble on the ground and fell flat on his face—unconscious?!

Wen Shijun stared blankly at the sprawled figure. After waiting for a long moment and seeing no movement, he didn’t bother checking the assailant’s thoughts. Grabbing Ji Zining’s hand, he tried to lead her away.

But as they passed, the black-clad assailant’s hand clamped around Ji Zining’s ankle. Startled, she jerked backward, pulling Wen Shijun with her.

Losing her footing, Ji Zining stumbled on another pebble and fell backward. Caught off guard, Wen Shijun tumbled after her.

This fall proved fatal. They had been standing too close to the cliff’s edge, and the backward tumble sent them plunging over the precipice.

As they fell, Wen Shijun reacted swiftly, reaching for a nearby branch. But Ji Zining’s panicked tug left him clutching only leaves as they plummeted into the abyss.

During the fall, Wen Shijun couldn’t help but think

Sister! Why were you so startled when the assailant grabbed your leg? And why did you pull me?! We had a chance! Now we’re both going to die here.

Despair washed over Wen Shijun. He closed his eyes, silently accepting the inevitable arrival of death.