You Must Marry Me! - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Yan Yiyun went back to her room and immediately called Yi Jingyu.

Yi Jingyu was preparing lunch, the sound of her chopping ribs echoed loudly. She asked, “What’s up?”

Listening to the deafening sound of bones being chopped, Yan Yiyun felt a bit of a headache. “Stop chopping ribs for a second.”

Yi Jingyu replied, “What? I’m chopping ribs—how does that bother you? I finally managed to buy these.”

Yan Yiyun said, “I’m afraid if I tell you something, you’ll chop your hand by accident.”

Yi Jingyu immediately stopped, set the cleaver down, washed her hands, and got ready to listen to gossip properly.

Only after the noise disappeared did Yan Yiyun say, “I’ve been thinking just now… I think I really do like Qi Zhen.”

Yi Jingyu slapped her thigh. “Now that’s more like it!”

Yan Yiyun: “…”

She hadn’t even said anything yet—how did Yi Jingyu already know it was “more like it”?

But Yi Jingyu had her own logic.

She said, “Look, first of all, you two were childhood friends. She casually said she’d marry you when you were kids, and you remembered it all these years. Isn’t that the definition of a perfect romance?”

Yan Yiyun wanted to argue, but she had to admit that what Yi Jingyu said made some sense, and she fumbled to find a response.

Yi Jingyu continued, “All these years passed, and you’ve been thinking about finding her. Then she just happens to be working at your company—if that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.”

Yan Yiyun fully agreed with that. “That’s true.”

Yi Jingyu said, “And from what you’ve described, you two get along really well now. You even get shy when you look at her. I think it’s pretty obvious you like her. No argument, right?”

Yan Yiyun’s face turned warm as she replied softly, “No argument.”

Yi Jingyu clapped her hands. “I can tell just by your bashful voice—I knew I was right.”

From across mountains and seas, she cheered Yan Yiyun on: “Go for it, girl. I’m coming back next year, and I’m expecting to attend your wedding.”

Thinking of her mom’s expression earlier, Yan Yiyun felt that kind of talk was getting ahead of things. She didn’t even know if Qi Zhen liked her—how could they already be talking about a wedding?

She said, “The wedding part might be a stretch, but we’ll definitely have a meal together when you’re back.”

Even if Qi Zhen hadn’t accepted her feelings by then, at least as friends, they could share a meal.

Yi Jingyu cheerfully agreed, “No problem. I’m off to cook now.”

After Yi Jingyu hung up, Yan Yiyun headed into the bathroom to take a bath.

The hot water had already been prepared. The bathtub was filled with bath essence, and a soft, fluffy layer of pink bubbles floated on top—just looking at it made her feel good.

Sinking into the tub, Yan Yiyun felt much more relaxed.

Her messy thoughts gradually settled. But she still hadn’t figured out how she was going to face Qi Zhen tomorrow.

Realizing that she liked Qi Zhen felt both unbelievable and perfectly natural at the same time.

She had never liked anyone before, and had never considered the possibility. But in her heart, there had always been a blurry figure.

That figure… was Qi Zhen.

If she were to like anyone, then liking Qi Zhen made all the sense in the world.

Yan Yiyun played with the soft pink bubbles. She had never imagined there would come a day when just thinking about someone would make her feel so happy. So this is what it feels like to like someone?

She had no idea how she was going to survive work tomorrow. Just knowing she’d see Qi Zhen again made her lips curl up uncontrollably.

In her current state, how could she possibly resist glancing at Qi Zhen when she passed the design department?

If she looked into Qi Zhen’s eyes, would Qi Zhen be able to tell?

Yan Yiyun’s heart was uneasy. She didn’t know how Qi Zhen would react to being liked by someone of the same gender. If Qi Zhen wasn’t into women, and found out Yan Yiyun liked her—would she cut her off completely?

She knew she couldn’t bear such an outcome.

Yan Yiyun couldn’t let Qi Zhen disappear from her life again.

She could be just friends with Qi Zhen—but she couldn’t bear having no connection to her at all.

After her bath, the first thing Yan Yiyun did was check her phone.

Among all the red notifications, Qi Zhen’s message immediately jumped out at her. She had sent two.

The first one was sent an hour ago. Just a few words: she was home.

Every time they went out together, Qi Zhen would send her a message upon arriving home.

The first time it happened, Yan Yiyun found it a bit strange, but later she realized that getting that message really did make her feel at ease.

When it came to Qi Zhen’s thoughtful gestures, Yan Yiyun was both touched and overwhelmed.

She could never anticipate those gestures herself—she could only learn from Qi Zhen’s example and try to do the same. But she was always worried Qi Zhen would think she wasn’t sincere enough.

The second message had come half an hour ago, asking: “Are you home yet?”

Yan Yiyun had been too busy drinking sweet soup and joking about marrying Qi Zhen to reply.

Thinking of that moment, Yan Yiyun’s face turned red with guilt. She hurried to reply, “Yes, I’m home! Just took a bath.”

Qi Zhen had been waiting for her reply. When it finally came, she felt a wave of relief and wrote: “Glad to hear. Get some rest early.”

Yan Yiyun had been driven home by a chauffeur, so it was perfectly safe—but Qi Zhen still worried, and always asked if she’d gotten home safely.

Yan Yiyun replied with a cute bunny sticker. Qi Zhen’s heart skipped a beat when she saw it.

Yan Yiyun added, “I’m going to bed soon, you should sleep early too.”

Qi Zhen: “Okay, good night ^_^”

Yan Yiyun stared at those two simple words—good night—for a long time.

It was the first time Qi Zhen had ever said good night to her.

Just those two words, paired with a clumsy little emoji, filled her heart with warmth.

She opened her sticker pack, carefully selected one, and sent another bunny—this time wrapped in a little blanket, sound asleep.

Qi Zhen usually didn’t use sticker emojis like that, but… how could anyone resist such an adorable bunny?

Qi Zhen couldn’t.

Looking at the soft, cute bunny made her imagine Yan Yiyun curled up under a blanket, lights out, sleeping peacefully.

She had already told Yan Yiyun good night, but she had no plans to sleep just yet.

Qi Zhen still had work to do. She opened her laptop and began editing a rough cut of a new video—one of three she did weekly for a popular influencer brand. It was her steady side job.

After editing, she opened a document to begin drafting a project proposal.

Over the past few months, she’d built up experience working with influencer clients. But she knew this wasn’t sustainable.

Once the company’s internal promotion results were released, Qi Zhen planned to drop her side jobs and start producing her own content.

She’d majored in media at university—video editing and design were second nature to her. Back in school, she’d already won numerous awards, and after graduation, she co-founded a studio with friends. They made experimental videos without regard for cost, and won a lot of praise—but hardly made any money.

This time, Qi Zhen wanted both recognition and financial stability.

She recalled how, just earlier when she got home, she’d opened the door to a heavy atmosphere in the living room.

Her mom was sitting on the couch, staring at her. Her dad, next to her, was already dozing off.

Qi Zhen asked, “If you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed?”

“You weren’t home. How could we sleep?” her mom snapped. “You’re barely ever home these days—who knows where you run off to…”

She was about to say more, but Qi Zhen cut her off. “I was out having dinner with a colleague. I told you earlier, didn’t I?”

Her mother’s expression shifted. “Which colleague? The one from before? Why didn’t you bring them home to meet us?”

Qi Zhen took a deep breath and told herself: Everyone has their struggles. Don’t lose your temper.

She said, “They had something to do.”

Clearly a brush-off.

Her mom got angrier. Sitting on the couch with raised brows, she said, “Always ‘something to do.’ You just don’t want us to see who your friends are. None of your past friends came over either. Who knows where you picked them up from…”

Qi Zhen felt her temples throbbing. She couldn’t help but snap, “Mom, I’m twenty-five.”

“And? Just because you’re twenty-five, we can’t control you anymore?” her mother raised her voice.

Qi Zhen didn’t answer. She walked straight into her room, shutting the door on their voices.

She felt utterly drained. Since childhood, everything in her life had to be reported to her parents. But when she really had a problem, no one helped—no one even cared what she thought. Her parents would just throw money at her and tell her to figure it out.

She’d always been more mature than her peers. Started school early. Had already moved to another city for university. But just when her studio was gaining traction, a family emergency forced her back home.

She didn’t expect her return to be so suffocating. Maybe it was the stress, but her parents—who used to be somewhat reasonable—had become impossible.

She once subtly brought up the idea of moving closer to work. But her father snapped, “What? You just got back and you already want to move out? Do I bother you that much?”

He smashed a bowl and said, “We raised you with so much money, and now you’re never home. Even when your father’s sick, you don’t want to stay.”

Her mom chimed in, “Yeah, renting a place is expensive. You know our situation. Don’t be so selfish.”

She had wanted to say, Two thousand yuan isn’t that expensive, but one look at their faces, and she swallowed the words.

Maybe she really had neglected them while she was away. Maybe that’s why her father got sick.

From that day on, Qi Zhen held herself back. She took on more work with the mindset of repaying a debt—hoping that one day she could make things better. But that day never came. All she got was more control, more suffocation.

Now, she didn’t think about that anymore. All she wanted was to save enough to buy a small apartment and move out. Once she had her own place, they’d have no say.

This year, her opportunity had finally arrived.

The company’s internal promotion was coming. If she got it, and Xu Haiyang stepped down, she’d become the head of the design department. Her salary would double, she could lead projects, and the bonuses would be generous.

Working at Xingyun Entertainment was stressful—but the pay was excellent.

With her freelance savings, buying a home might really be possible.

And if her personal videos gained traction, she’d be even closer to that goal.

Qi Zhen stared at her simple proposal and let out a bitter laugh.

Back when she and her friends made those artsy, idealistic projects, she never imagined her life would turn out like this.

Her old friends still asked if she’d come back and shoot short films with them, and she always declined.

She still kept up with their studio—they’d become well-known directors in China’s indie short film scene, with multiple acclaimed releases.

Only she had been left behind, tossed by the waves of life, unable to find a boat to cross the river.