Chapter 11 : A Human Pillow

Péi Wanyi didn’t really sleep, not even as the light outside the window slowly brightened.

She reached up and pressed a button, closing the blackout curtain, leaving only a sliver of a gap.

In that sliver of light, Péi Wanyi turned her head to look at the person holding her.

Scattered black hair covered half her face. Her sleeping expression was peaceful, her breathing light and steady.

Péi Wanyi reached out a finger and poked her cheek, watching her frown slightly.
—So trusting.

Péi Wanyi rested her head on her arm and watched her for a long time, only closing her eyes when sleepiness finally crept in.

At this hour, she could only rest for a short while, but it was enough for her.

When there are too many things to do and not enough time, one can only sacrifice the least valuable part.

For Péi Wanyi, that part was sleep.

When she was truly busy, it wasn’t uncommon for her to go three days without a full night’s sleep.

So this impromptu camping trip was a rare and long-overdue event for her.

El had sent a message midway through the night, saying he had resolved his family matter and asking how they were enjoying the movie.

Péi Wanyi’s reply was ambiguous; she only said she had closed up the shop for him and left the key in the usual spot.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t see the subtle shift between El and Jiang Yanlin.

When they first met, El’s entire focus had been on her. He served her tea and water at dinner, and all his conversation revolved around her. If she so much as stepped out onto the balcony for some air, he would follow her with longing eyes.

It was a stark contrast to how he had been last night.

That day, Péi Wanyi had actually overheard their entire conversation from the balcony doorway.

Therefore, she knew very well that Jiang Yanlin’s mention of Han Xu was no casual remark.

Those few words had so easily shattered El’s image of Han Xu and had also subsequently ruined Lu Sien’s good impression of him—so much so that the year-end ski trip was never mentioned again.

From that day on, Péi Wanyi knew that Jiang Yanlin was a brilliant manipulator.

A few seemingly careless words, a publicly neutral and objective stance, and even her way of presenting things as what she “saw” rather than her subjective opinion.

Such a simple push had effectively destroyed the image Han Xu had painstakingly built over the years. Although it was only in the eyes of a few people, the impact was not insignificant.
—El was a well-connected person with a loose tongue. Once he knew, it wouldn’t be long before the news spread.

Based on this incident alone, Péi Wanyi would naturally want to avoid further contact with someone like Jiang Yanlin.

She was resourceful, hard to deal with, and uncontrollable.
—The last point was the most crucial.

Péi Wanyi didn’t mind what kind of person Han Xu was. In fact, in her world, people like him were commonplace.

Even Péi Wanyi herself possessed many similar traits.

Saying the right things to the right people, maximizing one’s own interests—such were the rules of the game in their world.

Péi Wanyi wouldn’t deny that her initial aversion to Jiang Yanlin was largely due to a risk-avoidance mindset.

From any angle, this woman was trouble.

A troublemaker who enjoyed watching drama unfold, fanning the flames from behind the scenes, and playing a group of people for fools.

Péi Wanyi had no desire to be caught in her playground, to become a part of the “fun” she created.

But Péi Wanyi had forgotten that the reasons for self-projection are often much deeper.
—If she had truly seen Jiang Yanlin as just another passerby, she wouldn’t have spent even a second analyzing her.

Most of the time, Péi Wanyi could form a basic judgment of a person from their first meeting.

She hadn’t changed her opinion of Jiang Yanlin.

But there were those very rare moments when her mind and body would clash.

Countless theories and experiences tell you the right thing to do, but by the time you realize it, your body has already made the choice for you.

Fortunately, Péi Wanyi was an absurd person to begin with.

In all her years of living, the thing she cared about the least was doing the “right” thing.

When Jiang Yanlin woke up, the human-sized pillow was no longer in bed.

She turned her head, picked up her phone, and glanced at the time. It was almost noon.

It was surprising. Her body, which usually had trouble adjusting to new beds, had fallen asleep the moment it hit the mattress this time.

It was probably exhaustion. Both socializing and dealing with women were draining.

That’s why Jiang Yanlin’s “fish pond” consisted only of men.

Their minds were simple. They didn’t spend their days contemplating “self-worth” or more complex pursuits. Their sensitive points were mostly their fragile egos and vanity in competition, not their emotions. Therefore, using them as tools came with no burden—especially through the convenience of social media, it was practically zero-cost.

Women were completely different. Every one of Jiang Yanlin’s ex-girlfriends had high emotional needs. They wanted her focused and exclusive love. No amount of physical pleasure could replace mental connection.

Jiang Yanlin didn’t mind such intimate relationships; she had even enjoyed them in the past.

But times had changed. She now understood that no relationship would last for long.

The meeting of two people is just the chance encounter of two lines. The further they go, the more they diverge.

Every minute, every second, people change—molded by society, by time, by their own will.

The person who loves you deeply one moment could turn to someone else the next. It was perfectly reasonable.

After experiencing enough encounters and partings, Jiang Yanlin was certain that she would not give up her forward momentum for anyone.

So, in the end, she simply skipped the tedious process, shortening the distance between the beginning and the end.
—The person sleeping beside her tonight could be a farewell tomorrow.

“You’re awake?”

Hearing movement from the bathroom, Péi Wanyi pulled open the RV door and asked from the other side.

Jiang Yanlin had just finished washing up. She opened the bathroom door and, for once, said something nice:
“The pillow was very comfortable. I slept quite well.”

Péi Wanyi let out a laugh. “That’s why I didn’t wake you. Do you have anything important to do? If not, have something to eat before I take you back.”

Jiang Yanlin was indeed hungry. “Do you need a hand?”

“It’s already done. It’s in the warmer.”

The space inside the RV was small. Péi Wanyi reached over her shoulder and opened the cabinet behind her.

The movement inevitably brought them into contact, and it was hard to say it wasn’t intentional.

Jiang Yanlin looked at her approaching face, then suddenly turned her head, her cheek brushing against hers as she asked,
“Did I disturb your sleep?”

Péi Wanyi’s movement paused for a moment before she continued to take out the plates, calmly retorting,
“Are you talking about snoring? It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Jiang Yanlin thought to herself that Péi Wanyi must have gotten into a lot of fights as a child.

Otherwise, she couldn’t have developed such a thick skin to survive in society.

Two plates were brought out. The unapologetic Miss Péi unfolded the table, set down the plates, and poured two glasses of freshly made hot soy milk.

“It’s unsweetened. Sugar is in the second drawer on the left if you want it.”

Jiang Yanlin glanced at the oil-free fried eggs and bacon on the plate and was quite satisfied.

“Thanks. I didn’t know you could cook.”

Péi Wanyi found the backhanded compliment amusing.

“Why don’t you try a bite first, just in case?”

Jiang Yanlin took the fork and, heeding her words, really did take a bite—fully prepared to look for a trash can at any moment.

But it was surprisingly good, the work of someone who cooked often.
—How novel. The haughty Miss Péi, who looked down her nose at everyone, was not, in fact, a helpless idiot in her daily life.

Eating the breakfast made by the young miss, Jiang Yanlin righteously held on to her stereotype.

If Péi Wanyi could hear that, she would only let out a long sigh.
—She had so carefully managed her image, only to make one mistake of misidentification and attract the most grudge-holding person of all.
What terrible luck.

Breakfast was simple and finished in a few bites.

Péi Wanyi was washing the pan and casually washed her plate as well.

Jiang Yanlin sipped her soy milk slowly and stepped out of the RV to check the weather.

Summer days were mostly sunny. Last night’s scattered lights were gone, replaced by bright sunshine, green mountains, and the distant, unobstructed view of skyscrapers.

A folding chair sat under a sun umbrella. A tablet and stylus were casually left on the chair. Jiang Yanlin turned back and asked,
“Is this your tablet? It’s on the chair.”

Péi Wanyi leaned out of the RV window and replied,
“Can you grab it for me then? I left it there last time.”

Jiang Yanlin picked up the tablet and pen, and while she was at it, folded up the chair and put it back in the RV.

The tablet screen was accidentally woken up, lighting up to reveal another Life is Strange fan art wallpaper.

This time it was a picture of Max and Chloe together. The two girls were leaning against each other, with no background and simple, sketchy lines, but it didn’t diminish the art’s charm.

From the style, it was likely by the same artist as the wallpaper on Miss Péi’s phone.

Jiang Yanlin quite liked the style. She turned to the person beside her and asked,
“What’s this artist’s name? Do they have a Twitter? I’d like to follow them.”

Péi Wanyi glanced at it and replied coolly,
“I don’t want you to.”

Jiang Yanlin blinked, giving her a questioning look after a few seconds.

Péi Wanyi, having finished washing her hands, turned around and tapped her on the forehead with a finger, a light push outward.

“Leave me some dignity, thank you.”

Jiang Yanlin didn’t wipe the faint water mark from her forehead and glanced at the tablet in her hand again.

In just a second, she changed her mind.

“Then send me the original picture.”

Péi Wanyi easily saw through her intention.

“A reverse image search will only bring up a bunch of reposts.”

Jiang Yanlin’s expression didn’t change. “I just like it and want to save it.”

Is there a problem with that?

Péi Wanyi leaned against the cabinet, held her gaze for a moment, then reached into her jeans pocket for her phone.

As she unlocked it, she said,
“If you want mine, you’ll have to trade yours.”

Jiang Yanlin didn’t mind. Her Twitter was inactive anyway, just a tool for saving things. Giving it away was no big deal.

Péi Wanyi’s lips curved into a smirk as she added,
“Trade your Instagram for it.”

Jiang Yanlin was speechless.
“…”
So that’s what she was waiting for.