The Shadow Queen and Her Little Bodyguard (GL) - Chapter 11

Yi Lanyin wanted to strangle the smug Yu Jing.

But in a society governed by law, she could only squeeze the rose stem in her hand as a substitute.

Get in the car, Yu Jing said. We’ll miss our flight if we don’t hurry.

What about the flowers? Yi Lanyin asked.

What about them? Yu Jing countered.

Xiao Tao’s here. Don’t play dumb with me, Yi Lanyin chided.

Yu Jing was about to tease her when someone passing by glanced over. She quickly pulled Yi Lanyin closer, the familiar warm, woody scent of her perfume filling Yu Jing’s nostrils.

The night wind alternated between cold and warm.

Rows of streetlights lined the street, while stars twinkled in the sky.

Yi Lanyin quietly nestled against Yu Jing’s chest. After the footsteps faded, she looked up. I don’t like Pei Jiu, but I hope you’ll respect him. He’s helped me a lot.

Oh, Yu Jing replied, her ears flushing crimson.

Is there anything else you want to know? Yi Lanyin asked, brushing her long hair aside with the wind, her movements adding to the night’s tender, ambiguous atmosphere.

We can talk about it later, Yu Jing said, stepping back. What does it matter anyway? We’ll be late if we don’t leave now, she reminded softly.

Mm-hmm, Yi Lanyin replied, adopting Yu Jing’s usual one-word response.

They stopped by Yi Lanyin’s house to pick up her luggage before the two-hour drive to the airport. The rose Yi Lanyin had tucked into the seat pocket behind Yu Jing’s seat remained there, untouched by rain. Xiao Tao didn’t ask where the flower came from, but she did offer a sarcastic remark Yu Jing, you viperous temptress! Stop trying to steal Sister Yi! I love her too!

Yi Lanyin chuckled quietly in her seat.

At the airport, Yu Jing took charge of the luggage and protecting Yi Lanyin, while Xiao Tao managed the crowd’s noise and order. Yi Lanyin, meanwhile, posed for photos with the fans who had been waiting patiently and accepted their letters with a practiced grace.

Finally reaching the lounge, Xiao Tao seized the moment while Yu Jing went to fetch water. She leaned in and whispered to Yi Lanyin, Sister Yi, these seats were booked ages ago—you two are sitting together. If it’s really a problem, I can switch with her.

Really? Yi Lanyin feigned checking their boarding passes before handing them back to Xiao Tao. Then let’s not bother.

Xiao Tao wore an expression that said, I knew you’d say that, before leaning closer to gossip I just saw in our group chat that Zhou Ying has her eye on Little Sister Yu?

Mm-hmm, Yi Lanyin replied, her gaze fixed on the letters from her fans, the Blue Elves. She didn’t seem particularly interested in Zhou Ying’s affairs.

Xiao Tao asked, You two weren’t arguing about this earlier, were you?

Of course not, Yi Lanyin denied. I wouldn’t lower myself to her level. Let that little brat get scammed by Zhou Ying—serves her right.

Here we go again, Xiao Tao thought, suppressing a smile. The tsundere queen is back.

Yi Lanyin was fiercely protective of her own. Whether it was Yu Jing or even ordinary Qihang employees facing online harassment, Yi Lanyin would stand up for them without hesitation.

Her unwavering support often triggered waves of negative trending topics, but she remained unfazed, completely ignoring the torrent of abuse.

This was precisely why Xiao Tao followed her so loyally. Born into wealth, Yi Lanyin was like a rough-hewn jade—pure and unadulterated, strong and reliable. Lu Huadong, the youngest Grand Slam Best Actress in history, once described her Senior Yi is like a lily cultivated beneath a Bodhi tree—touched by worldly dust yet possessing a Buddha-like purity, utterly transparent and clear.

Yu Jing, having missed dinner, helped herself to snacks and drinks in the first-class lounge, completely oblivious to how her first-class ticket had come about.

Once they boarded the plane, the fans who had been swarming Yi Lanyin gradually dispersed.

For such a late, unannounced flight, so many people bought tickets just to gamble on Yi Lanyin being on this plane, Yu Jing thought, feeling exhausted. I’m tired, Yi Lanyin must be even more tired, and her fans must be utterly drained.

Yu Jing, completely unfamiliar with the entertainment industry, couldn’t understand why so many people made chasing stars their entire way of life.

She glanced sideways at Yi Lanyin, who looked utterly exhausted beside her. The younger woman was curled up small in the oversized seat, a blanket draped over her legs, her head resting lightly against the left side of the seatback.

Yu Jing leaned closer and whispered, Do you like this kind of life?

I do, Yi Lanyin replied without opening her eyes.

From being completely ignored to being surrounded by clamoring crowds, Yi Lanyin had walked this path with unwavering resolve.

Yu Jing felt a pang of shame. She remembered her own bold declaration years ago about joining the tigers, only to now slink back to her home country alone, her tail between her legs. She had betrayed her ideals and Zhou Xiangyun’s expectations.

She instinctively reached for her pocket, then remembered her lighter couldn’t be taken on the plane and had been left in her car parked at the airport.

The plane began its slow ascent, and the cabin plunged into darkness.

Yu Jing, Yi Lanyin suddenly leaned closer and whispered, Don’t move.

Yu Jing stiffened, then realized Yi Lanyin had taken her hand. The younger woman gently stroked the knuckles on the back of Yu Jing’s hand with her thumb, saying nothing.

Perhaps it’s only in darkness that people shed the masks they wear in daylight. In the dark, ghosts need no disguise.

Yu Jing desperately wanted to ask her at that moment Am I your only canary? Or does the birdkeeper prefer birds of varied temperaments? Yu Jing turned her head and inhaled the scent of Yi Lanyin’s hair. At that moment, Li Zhi felt so real. She still had her familiar scent, still clung to Yu Jing as if she had no one else in the world.

The plane lurched a few times before gradually stabilizing. The floor lights came on first, followed by a flight attendant approaching with menus, softly asking about their meal preferences.

Yi Lanyin had already pulled away from Yu Jing during the turbulence, as if she had precisely calculated how long the darkness would last.

I won’t be eating, she smiled and shook her head at the friendly flight attendant. Thank you.

Yu Jing glanced at her. Yi Lanyin was back to her usual self, having changed out of her film crew T-shirt before entering the airport. She now wore a loose, light blue long-sleeved T-shirt, with Yu Jing’s shirt layered beneath the blanket covering her legs.

With practiced ease, Yi Lanyin retrieved an eye mask and earplugs from her small carry-on bag. Just as she slipped the eye mask over her eyes, she glanced at Yu Jing. Order whatever you want. If it’s not enough, just ask for another serving. It’s no problem.

Yu Jing found Yi Lanyin’s forced friendliness—the kind reserved for strangers to maintain a celebrity persona—particularly grating. She stubbornly mirrored her tone, saying, I won’t eat either, thank you.

What about drinks?

I don’t need any.

The flight attendant collected the menu and turned away with a polite smile.

As they spoke, Yi Lanyin reclined her seat and rested her head against the right side of the headrest. Wearing an eye mask, she asked, Did you eat enough in the lounge earlier?

Mm-hmm, Yu Jing replied, mimicking Yi Lanyin’s posture by reclining her own seat.

Lying back, Yu Jing tore open the packaging of the eye mask the flight attendant had given her. Just as she was about to slip the strap over her head, Yi Lanyin suddenly propped herself up on one arm and snatched the mask from her hand. Apologize to me, and I’ll reluctantly give you my spare eye mask.

Yu Jing turned to glare at her. Mine’s brand new. Why would I want your spare?

Mine’s also new—made of silk. Aren’t you even a little tempted? Yi Lanyin asked, her voice low and husky.

Not at all, Yu Jing said, shaking her head. These things don’t even work for me. Besides, why should I apologize to you?

Yi Lanyin tugged at her sleep mask with her index and middle fingers, revealing only one eye as she glared at Yu Jing. You threatened me just now. Why aren’t you apologizing? Just because of a stupid bouquet of flowers?

Hearing this, Yu Jing’s drowsiness vanished. She sat up and earnestly argued with the reclining Yi Lanyin. You were the one who started by scrutinizing my face like it was some kind of freak show. I made concessions for Teacher Yi’s work and mood. What’s wrong with that?

Yi Lanyin pointed at herself, then at Yu Jing. Don’t act innocent when you’re the one benefiting. I didn’t sleep a wink last night, so don’t push me!

Yu Jing burst out laughing. Li Zhi didn’t have morning grumpiness, but she often suffered from insomnia. When she couldn’t sleep, she’d get irritable and pester Yu Jing, who would then have to rack her brain and concoct stories to keep her entertained.

The tales ranged from a little pig falling into a river and being rescued by a heroic rabbit to the cross-cultural romance between Li Hua and her foreign friend Mike. Not being a literary genius, Yu Jing’s stories were as long and tedious as foot-binding cloths. Yet Li Zhi devoured them. Even if she couldn’t remember where the story had left off the night before, she could accurately recap it the next day, then beg for a continuation with her beautiful face.

She was utterly adorable. Having never experienced familial love, Yu Jing had resolved early on to remain unmarried and childless. It was only after meeting Li Zhi that she began to reconsider her stance. If she could have a daughter like Li Zhi in this lifetime, she would do anything the heavens asked of her.

I won’t tease you, Yu Jing said, instinctively reaching out to touch Yi Lanyin’s face, which was still fixed in a glare. Only after touching her did she realize her mistake. Oh, sorry.

Yi Lanyin huffed through her nose and tossed her small purse onto Yu Jing’s lap. I accept your apology. Take the eye mask yourself.

The apology was clearly meant for touching her face, but Yi Lanyin had misunderstood. Since she didn’t seem to mind the touch, Yu Jing decided not to make a fuss. She accepted the gesture, retrieving an obviously expensive eye mask from the purse, its packaging layered multiple times.

As Yu Jing unwrapped the mask, the friendly flight attendant approached and knelt beside them. She leaned in and softly asked Yi Lanyin, whose one visible eye peered out from beneath the mask, Miss Yi, hello. May I trouble you for a moment? I’m a huge fan of your work, and I recently saw your latest film—your performance was truly remarkable. Would you mind signing an autograph for me? It’s perfectly fine if you’re busy. Her expression, however, burned with such fervent hope that it was hard to believe it would be perfectly fine if Yi Lanyin declined.

Yi Lanyin sat up, removed her eye mask, and accepted the small notebook from the flight attendant. With a few quick strokes, she signed her name, closed the notebook, and handed it back.

Yu Jing watched blankly from the side. After the flight attendant thanked her and left, Xiao Tao, sitting across the aisle, tugged at Yu Jing’s sleeve. What are you doing? Stop her!

Huh? Yu Jing turned to her, confused. Should I stop her?

Yes! What if there’s danger? You can’t sign a blank piece of paper.

Okay, Yu Jing nodded guiltily, then added, The paper wasn’t blank. I saw lines—it was a normal notebook.

Yi Lanyin, amused by Yu Jing’s timid demeanor around Xiao Tao despite her height, lay back down and chuckled softly.

Feeling guilty, Yu Jing didn’t react defensively to Yi Lanyin’s laughter. Instead, she leaned closer and whispered apologetically, I’m sorry.

It’s fine, Yi Lanyin said, poking the small mole on the left side of Yu Jing’s nose. Tell me a bedtime story, and I’ll be magnanimous and forgive you.