You Must Marry Me! - Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Yan Yiyun’s cheeks were puffed full of meat. While chewing, she still had more meat in her chopsticks—she looked exactly like a little hamster.
Her wide eyes stared at Qi Zhen, filled with disbelief.
Qi Zhen calmly held up her phone, filming as she spoke, “Eat slower, don’t choke.”
It was fine until she said that—now Yan Yiyun actually did feel like she was choking.
Still chewing, she pointed at her accusingly, her speech muffled, “You’re sneakily recording me!”
Qi Zhen looked at her leisurely and said, “How is this sneaky? I’m openly recording, just fulfilling your request.”
Her voice carried a playful lilt.
Yan Yiyun was so angry she looked like a little puffed-up kitten. As soon as she swallowed the meat, she reached out to snatch Qi Zhen’s phone.
“Give it! Give it here!” She leaned halfway across the table to grab it. “Delete it, you have to delete it!”
Qi Zhen raised the phone, the camera still aimed at her, smiling as she watched, “Why should I delete it? Didn’t you ask me to record earlier?”
Sitting on the tatami mat, separated from Qi Zhen by half a table, Yan Yiyun looked at her. Under the warm lighting of the BBQ restaurant, Qi Zhen’s skin looked especially luminous, like pearls. Her eyes sparkled—her whole presence was radiant and lively, making Yan Yiyun’s heart skip a beat.
Qi Zhen continued filming her, her voice light and teasing, “Come on~”
Yan Yiyun pursed her lips. She could sense Qi Zhen’s joy. In truth, she rarely saw Qi Zhen show emotion—most of the time she was like a still pond, calm and bottomless, with a perfect polite smile and measured words, unreadable.
Even though they had shared many meals, and Yan Yiyun considered herself on good terms with her, this was the first time she had seen Qi Zhen show unguarded, unabashed happiness.
She realized belatedly that she had finally cracked a small opening in this icy façade.
Qi Zhen had begun to let down her guard in front of her—to smile and joke.
That thought made it hard for her to insist any further.
Yan Yiyun hunched her shoulders and started to sit back down. Forget it—if keeping the video made Qi Zhen happy, then what was the harm?
Qi Zhen noticed her sudden shift in attitude and found it odd. Given Yan Yiyun’s personality, shouldn’t she be lunging across the table to snatch her phone, fighting her tooth and nail?
“What, had a change of heart?”
She grew a little uneasy. Was Yan Yiyun angry and just couldn’t be bothered to argue?
She tested the waters, “Not deleting it anymore?”
Her voice still carried that same teasing tone—even if she was no longer in high spirits, she didn’t want Yan Yiyun to catch on.
Sure enough, Yan Yiyun didn’t notice. She shook her head and said, “Nope, keep it.”
But just two seconds later, she changed her mind. She scooted over to Qi Zhen’s side and reached out confidently, “Let me see it. If it looks ugly, I still want it deleted!”
Her tone was sharp, but her smile was soft. For some reason, Qi Zhen heard a trace of coyness in her voice. Her already-soft heart melted even more.
She unlocked her phone, opened the gallery, and handed it over. “Take a look. You look gorgeous.”
Yan Yiyun cupped the phone in both hands, watching the video Qi Zhen had just recorded, completely focused.
Even though the video had only one continuous shot, it wasn’t awkward or clumsy at all. Instead, it had a flowing, effortless beauty.
In the video, Yan Yiyun chewed on grilled meat, her cheeks full, her eyes shining. She reached toward the camera, voice clear: “You’re sneakily recording me?”
Qi Zhen’s voice came from offscreen: “How is this sneaky? I’m recording you openly—fulfilling your request.”
That voice carried a soft smile, warm like jade, cool and restrained, yet made all the more enticing because of that faint laughter.
Yan Yiyun felt her breath hitch. She realized belatedly how lovely Qi Zhen’s voice was.
The whole video was bathed in warm yellow tones. The soft light fell on her gently. Wisps of smoke from the grill occasionally floated across the screen, veiling her face now and then, giving the scene a touch of everyday warmth.
The video featured only Yan Yiyun, with Qi Zhen’s voice occasionally chiming in. And each time her voice appeared, Yan Yiyun noticed that her own expressions became more vivid, her smile more tender.
She was doomed, she thought.
So this is how I look when I’m around Qi Zhen.
She had thought she hid it well. But love—like a cough—couldn’t be hidden.
Watching the video, she could clearly see that the person in front of the camera and the one behind it must have a close relationship. Otherwise, why would she smile so brightly? Why would her eyes crinkle, her voice sound so shy when that offscreen voice spoke?
Yan Yiyun didn’t want to ruin what they had now. It had taken so much effort to go from strangers to friends. Was she being greedy to want more?
She was torn. Part of her thought she had a chance if she took it slow. Another part thought she was being foolishly greedy.
Her biggest fear was that Qi Zhen would realize her feelings and not reciprocate—then even friendship would be lost.
She lowered her eyes, pressed “exit,” and was about to hand the phone back to Qi Zhen.
That video… if Qi Zhen watched it again, she’d probably figure out her feelings—if she paid attention.
Yan Yiyun had no intention of deleting the video. Letting Qi Zhen discover it on her own was gentler than blurting it out.
For the first time in her life, she decided to be an ostrich—to hide and avoid facing the truth.
Before Qi Zhen could react, she saw Yan Yiyun press the home button, and her heart sank. Too late to stop her.
Yan Yiyun had just exited the photo gallery, which led straight to the phone’s home screen.
She hadn’t meant to look at Qi Zhen’s phone, but the screen caught her attention instantly.
The person on the lock screen was extremely familiar.
She wore a light blue dress, her chestnut-colored hair tied up in a fluffy bun. Adorably cute. A pearl necklace—one Yan Yiyun knew all too well—rested on her neck. She was in a pink-themed shop, holding up a phone to take a selfie, smiling brightly, radiating happiness.
Wait… wasn’t that her?
Yan Yiyun had a bold guess.
She turned around, face full of disbelief. “Who’s this?”
What was there left to say?
It was just a formality—Yan Yiyun clearly recognized herself.
Qi Zhen’s shoulders slumped slightly. She said nervously, “Sorry…”
That was an admission.
It was her.
Joy flickered in Yan Yiyun’s heart. Why had Qi Zhen taken a photo of her and made it her lock screen?
Could it really just be because she looked good in that photo? But there were millions of beautiful celebrities online—why not use them?
Maybe… Qi Zhen did have some feelings for her?
The hesitation and doubt in Yan Yiyun’s heart disappeared, replaced by smugness. She waved Qi Zhen’s phone slightly and asked teasingly, “Why’d you make me your lock screen, hmm?”
Her newfound confidence made her tone a little overbearing. Qi Zhen was already feeling guilty. Hearing her now, she thought for sure that Yan Yiyun was mad.
Taking a photo might be brushed off, but setting it as her wallpaper and staring at it every day? How could she explain that?
Qi Zhen was smart, but at this moment, even she couldn’t think of a good excuse.
Worse, Yan Yiyun’s gaze was intense, like the August sun—hot and unrelenting, staring her down as if she wouldn’t let this drop unless she got an answer.
It even felt like… if this didn’t get resolved, they might be over.
Qi Zhen’s breathing and heartbeat quickened. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. Her eyes darted around, landing on the watermelon juice nearby. She was just about to take a sip when Yan Yiyun pressed on, unrelenting:
“I’m asking you—why did you set my picture as your lock screen?”
Her tone was sharp, making Qi Zhen’s scalp tingle, but the end of her sentence had a slight coquettish edge.
In a flash, Qi Zhen came to her senses—Yan Yiyun didn’t dislike it. She might even be happy.
She thought back to all their previous interactions, all the subtle moments. A smile curved her lips.
“Because I think you’re beautiful,” Qi Zhen said lazily.
Yan Yiyun tossed the phone at her and lifted her chin, full of haughty rich-girl energy. “If you think I’m so beautiful, why didn’t you send it to me?”
Her tone was spoiled, but her face was completely red—even her ears were pink.
Qi Zhen grabbed her phone, and with a few quick taps, sent her the photo. She pointed at the screen, “Sent.”
They were sitting close. When Yan Yiyun met Qi Zhen’s playful gaze, she quickly looked away, eyes landing on the phone. It showed three photos and a video just sent.
“I’ll send the rest after I edit them.”
Qi Zhen said casually, as if she wasn’t driven by emotion, but instead deliberately took the photos because Yan Yiyun looked good and planned to share them later.
“Happy now, my lady?” Her tone was still lazy.
Yan Yiyun nodded sullenly. She had just noticed Qi Zhen’s contact name for her—big, bold characters.
“Little Crybaby.”
“This…” she said, pointing at the screen, “Change it.”
“Okay,” Qi Zhen replied smoothly, quickly changing the contact name before handing the phone back. “Anything for you, my lady.”
She smiled warmly, but Yan Yiyun could see the slyness in her eyes.
Sure enough, the new name was simply “My Lady.”
What the heck? Half the company saved her contact with that nickname. Every time she held a meeting, some careless executive would accidentally project their phone screen showing it.
Of all things, why would Qi Zhen choose the same nickname as those old guys?
Yan Yiyun was a little annoyed, but when she saw Qi Zhen’s mischievous grin, and remembered the way she had just called her my lady…
Her ears burned even redder.
“My lady.”
It had a subtly flirtatious ring to it.
Yan Yiyun handed the phone back and muttered in resignation, “Fine, it’s better than ‘crybaby.’”
At least this “my lady” was different from everyone else’s.
“Still not happy?” Qi Zhen said gently, holding the phone and pretending to ponder. “How about this?”
She tapped the keyboard a few times and passed it over.
Yan Yiyun took the phone and saw her new contact name:
“Softie.”
Just two adorable little characters—Softie—instantly made her heart melt.
Qi Zhen added, “Soft little Yunyun, soft little crybaby, soft everywhere. From now on, I’ll call you Softie, okay?”