I kissed Ming Shuyan

The cold night wind brushed past, and the two people in the villa clung to each other, a faint layer of warm sweat forming between them.

Ming Shuyan glanced at the window, her long arm reaching for the remote on the table, drawing the curtains shut.

The room grew even quieter, the TV buzzing faintly in the background, though neither had the heart to watch.

Ming Shuyan looked at the person before her, her eyes gleaming with unspoken desire.

Ming Shuzhen’s head was still bowed, her voice soft, carrying the laziness of someone just woken from rest.

She called out, but no words followed.

Ming Shuyan stayed silent, their eyes meeting in a quiet standoff.

Beside them, the TV’s narration played on, the actors’ lines muddled in the modern drama—hard to follow without subtitles.

But the background music was lovely, gentle like trickling water flowing around them.

Ming Shuzhen felt the atmosphere was a bit magical, laced with a touch of idol-drama flair, where the two leads gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.

From that gaze, both felt a jolt of electricity, a thrilling shiver that was both chaotic and captivating.

“If this were an idol drama, we’d probably kiss right now,” Ming Shuzhen whispered, her voice barely audible, not wanting the other to notice her ragged breathing.

Ming Shuyan’s eyes darkened, her gaze intense like a predator eyeing its prey.

Especially a starving one, fierce and eager for the feast.

Her breath quickened, her hands gripping Ming Shuzhen’s shoulders tighter.

“Assuming I can cook?” she teased, but her intent was clear—drawing closer.

Ming Shuzhen’s heart raced, the proximity making her pulse thunder.

“I really… didn’t expect this,” Ming Shuyan murmured, her voice husky.

“Hm? Why not?” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes fluttered, unsure.

The two laughed, first Ming Shuyan breaking, then Ming Shuzhen joining in.

“Oh.” Ming Shuyan stifled her laughter, her eyes sparkling.

They laughed it off, but soon their gazes locked again, and neither wanted to look away.

It was unclear who leaned in first, or who pursed their lips—suddenly, their focus shifted.

From eyes to mouths.

Ming Shuzhen felt her world narrow to the lips before her. She leaned forward slightly, her body twisting awkwardly, head turned to the side as they met.

Neither dared go deeper at first.

“Tch.” Ming Shuyan adjusted, facing her squarely.

They laughed softly, pulling each other closer.

Ming Shuzhen’s hands clutched Ming Shuyan’s shoulders, too tense to release. Was it… fear?

Ming Shuyan, undeterred, pressed her lips to Ming Shuzhen’s again.

This time, they both ventured further, tongues tentatively exploring, teeth grazing lightly.

Not as skilled at first, their teeth clashed, but the friction only fueled them.

Lips parted for breath, then met again.

“Still going?” Ming Shuyan teased, her hands on Ming Shuzhen’s waist.

Ming Shuzhen’s legs went weak, her body softening as they tangled on the sofa, faces flushed.

How wonderful—to bare oneself fully. If accepted, no judgment, move forward.

Ming Shuyan, recalling the radio station days, thanked her teacher for the push that gave her a voice, pulling her from isolation.

That shaped her values and worldview.

Without that self-rescue, her reclusive nature might’ve veered to extremes.

No Red Brick, no confident self in any setting.

The second self-rescue was…

In the car, she’d sometimes zone out, picturing that smiling face.

Big, bright eyes, always shimmering.

No earrings, small ears. Moist lips, soft-looking, corners upturned even without a smile.

So lovely, so full of life.

Ming Shuyan wasn’t selfish. She knew someone as happy as Ming Shuzhen should follow a conventional path.

She couldn’t pursue her, express her feelings, or act beyond a boss’s role.

Back then, through the radio station’s window, she’d glimpsed another’s happiness. Just watching made her feel it too.

She could imagine herself in that world, full of joy.

Now, she didn’t need to peer out windows—she was self-sufficient. Yet seeing Ming Shuzhen sparked a responsibility to protect her happiness.

Even so, she longed to hold onto something, to prove that despite unloving parents and distant sisters, the world held reasons for her to exist.

But looking at Ming Shuzhen’s innocent face, she gave a wry smile.

Who was she to make Ming Shuzhen her redemption without consent?

Suppressing her emotions, she asked, “Does it affect you?”

“Not really.” Ming Shuzhen shook her head.

Nepotism was common; she wasn’t fussy about clearing it up.

Plus, her colleagues were great. Less capable than Group One, lacking workhorse zeal, but genuinely kind.

They didn’t fawn over her assumed connections, exclude her, or dismiss her work.

Seeing her shake her head, Ming Shuyan frowned. “If it’s no issue, clarifying might seem like overexplaining, no?”

“Right.” Ming Shuzhen scratched her head. “You think deeper, Boss.”

Ming Shuyan’s eyes darkened at the possibly flattering words.

“Being tied to me isn’t shameful, right?”

“What?” Ming Shuzhen waved her hands. “Of course not!”

“Oh, good.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but Ming Shuzhen swore Ming Shuyan sighed in relief.

She clicked her tongue. “But if this rumor spreads, won’t it affect you?”

I’m kind of dumb—being your sister might embarrass you.

“What effect?” Ming Shuyan glanced at her.

Ming Shuzhen voiced her fear of embarrassing her.

Ming Shuyan let out an “Uh.”

Her arms crossed, she unconsciously touched her new watch.

“Someone who got into Dongda—how’s that dumb?” she said softly.

Ming Shuzhen fell silent, watching her quietly.

So… no clarification, then?

As if confirming her thoughts, Ming Shuyan dropped the topic.

She tapped the elevator’s screen, and the doors opened.

“It’s three. Ever calculate your actual work hours?” Ming Shuyan teased, eyeing her.

Ming Shuzhen stepped out sheepishly.

She justified herself mentally: Work hours? I’m at the company. Whether I’m slacking or napping on the fifth floor, it’s all company time—valid hours.

Turning, she faced Ming Shuyan in the elevator.

“Uh, Boss, I’m off to work?” she tested.

Ming Shuyan tilted her head, chin up. “Maybe try another angle.”

“Hm?” Outside, Ming Shuzhen didn’t catch it, leaning forward.

Ming Shuyan glanced at her. “Being tied to me… might not be so bad. You could…”

She spread her hands, sleeve still up, watch glinting.

“Enjoy it.”

Her tone lifted, and Ming Shuzhen caught a rare playful edge.

Enjoy? Enjoy being seen as connected?

Puzzled, she wanted to ask more, but the doors closed.

She stared at them, lost in thought.

That evening, Ming Shuzhen drove to Ming Shuyan’s place, more familiar this time.

Slipping into green slippers warmed by a dryer, she smiled at the dog pattern.

“What’s funny?” Ming Shuyan, at the door, saw her smile and mirrored it faintly.

“Mm.” Head down, Ming Shuzhen’s voice was muffled. “The slippers are cute.”

She wouldn’t admit she was laughing at her past jealousy over the “pen, ink, inkstone, table” sisters… all good now.

Last visit, she’d been sulky, demanding answers.

The queer scene could be messy, and she hadn’t expected Ming Shuyan to play that game, juggling multiple partners.

Now, with misunderstandings cleared, back in these fresh slippers, her mood was bright.

Hearing her praise the slippers, Ming Shuyan’s expression softened.

She rarely shopped, too busy, no patience.

On a rare outing, she’d spotted these slippers.

They screamed Ming Shuzhen—her style would love them.

She hadn’t planned on Ming Shuzhen visiting, or any of this closeness.

She just thought they were nice, fitting, something Ming Shuzhen might like, so she bought them.

Her own form of self-rescue.

“Boss, you cooking tonight?” Ming Shuzhen asked, seeing her linger at the door.

“Oh.” Ming Shuyan snapped back. “Too late—let’s order takeout.”

She’d just returned from her trip, swamped with work, only now free.

Ming Shuzhen remembered this area’s delivery fees. Since she was in her home, she’d treat. “I’ll order.”

Ming Shuyan, seeing her grab her phone, beat her to it.

They sat on the couch, phone between them. “Pick what you want,” Ming Shuyan said.

Not wanting much, Ming Shuzhen chose a light set meal, glancing at her.

Ming Shuyan picked the same.

“You…” After ordering, idle, she fidgeted.

Ming Shuyan rubbed her hands, standing. “I’ll get you water.”

Ming Shuzhen, about to say she wasn’t thirsty—nighttime water caused puffiness—saw her move and stayed quiet.

A warm cup in hand felt grounding.

“Boss, I saw your sister yesterday,” Ming Shuzhen said, breaking the silence to avoid awkwardness.

“Hm?” Ming Shuyan returned with water, handing her the cup.

Steam rose, perfect for warming hands.

With so many sisters, she raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”

“Uh…” Ming Shuzhen mentally reviewed “pen, ink, inkstone, table.” “He Xiang?”

“Oh.” Ming Shuyan nodded, understanding. “She’s busy placating her girlfriend. Probably heading back to Hong Kong soon.”

“Oh, what?” Ming Shuzhen blinked.

She recalled Ming Shuyan saying she knew her own orientation. So… her sister too?

“Heh.” Ming Shuyan caught her complex expression. “How’d you meet?”

Ming Shuzhen recounted the collie, the phone, the 10,000 yuan, circling back to the watch.

Ming Shuyan’s face grew complicated, eyeing the glinting watch.

She hadn’t taken it off since Ming Shuzhen put it on, glancing at it during work.

It felt fulfilling.

But… bought just to spend extra money?

She gave Ming Shuzhen a resentful glance—short hair by her ears, big eyes like an elf’s.

The elf blinked, oblivious to her mood, and asked, “Boss, how did you… figure out your orientation?”

“No need to figure it out,” Ming Shuyan said, masking her feelings.

She glanced at the watch, its precise ticks audible as she rubbed it.

“Liking someone is natural, inevitable. Boy or girl, you feel it. After all…” She paused, thoughtful, then continued.

“If you like her, she’s special to you. Different. You know your emotions, your thoughts—open or with some physical desire—but they’re only for her.” She struggled to explain.

“Then you notice her gender. Male, female, human, dog—it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh…” Ming Shuzhen nodded slowly, dazed.

She already knew she liked Ming Shuyan.

She asked to confirm, deeply confirm, it wasn’t a whim, childish play, or chasing trends.

She really wanted to confess.

To tell Ming Shuyan: I like you. You’re special. I feel this only for you.

Especially knowing Ming Shuyan liked women too, her heart itched.

She really wanted to confess.

When takeout arrived, they ate at the table.

The living room lights blazed, brightening the room.

The light hit their food boxes. Ming Shuyan dimmed the main lights, leaving only small spotlights.

Shadows danced under the soft glow.

“I’ll drive you home after. I’ll pick you up tomorrow—leave your car here,” Ming Shuyan said, eating. “Night driving’s unsafe.”

Ming Shuzhen nodded; her skills weren’t polished.

After dinner, they lounged on the couch, flipping channels to kill time.

Their dynamic felt beyond boss-employee, tinged with an indescribable closeness.

Was it her impure feelings making her guilty, unable to face Ming Shuyan openly?

Sitting upright, facing the TV, her eyes slid sideways, sneaking glances.

Though uneasy, Ming Shuyan wasn’t much better—sitting so straight, competing for best posture?

Her lips were taut. Nervous?

Ming Shuzhen smirked. The boss liked her too, right?

If she confessed now, what were the odds of acceptance?

She’d have a girlfriend—so cool, capable, long lashes, fragrant hair, stern but probably soft to touch, maybe warm.

Like a cheetah, its brown tail swishing grass, stirring dust.

Ugh, I want to stew her into soup.

No confession yet, no sign of acceptance, but she was already fantasizing about a girlfriend.

She thought keeping her head forward hid her glances, until Ming Shuyan, exasperated, turned.

“Change the channel? This boring?” Ming Shuyan eyed her.

“What? It’s good!” Ming Shuzhen hadn’t even registered the show.

“Then…” Ming Shuyan almost said, Why keep staring at me? but felt too vain.

“Sleepy? Want me to drive you back?” she asked instead.

“No!” Ming Shuzhen blurted, not ready to leave.

Realizing it might be a polite nudge, she added, “Uh, Boss, you resting soon?”

Ming Shuyan shook her head. “I rest later.”

“Oh.” Ming Shuzhen gazed at her, eyes gleaming under the lights.

The look sent Ming Shuyan’s heart racing.

She grabbed a blanket, draping it over Ming Shuzhen’s legs. “Lean over, it’s comfier.”

Ming Shuzhen, delighted, relaxed. No more posture contest—her waist was tired.

She leaned in lightly, careful not to crush her.

Leaning together, warm and soft, Ming Shuyan felt a fireball against her.

Hot, thrilling, disorienting.

She’d meant the couch, but seeing Ming Shuzhen nestled close, she held back.

What a strange sensation—a fireball on her.

Was it her warmth, Ming Shuzhen’s, or both? The heated room made it feel like they’d burn each other away.

She’d never been this close to anyone. With others, she’d recoil—but with Ming Shuzhen, it was sweet.

Her heart itched. She inched her hand to Ming Shuzhen’s shoulder.

Ming Shuzhen was used to close contact with family and friends.

But this moment—heart pounding, ears burning.

No wine, yet drunk.

Ming Shuyan hesitated, then lightly brushed her ear.

Seeing no rejection, she playfully pinched it.

Ming Shuzhen sprang up, ears redder.

She glared.

Ming Shuyan feigned innocence. “Your ears are so red.”

Slumping back, Ming Shuzhen muttered, “It’s hot.”

“Oh.” Ming Shuyan’s lips curved.