Chapter Thirty-Two: So Stingy and Miserly

The drunkard didn’t cause any more trouble. After complaining about his pain for a while, the alcohol took over and he soon fell into a deep sleep. Ye Zhao pointed at the drunk and asked, “What should we do? Should we call the police?”

YUKI shook her head. “Forget it. Let’s just leave here as quickly as possible.”

Ye Zhao noticed the tremor in her eyes, clearly still shaken. Seeing that, he abandoned the idea of pursuing the matter. “Alright, let’s go.”

As they walked out of the alley, Ye Zhao asked, “Why did you take such a secluded route?”

“I was heading home, of course. It’s a bit quicker if I go through that alley,” YUKI replied slowly. Seeing she was still unsettled, Ye Zhao deliberately changed the subject. “I thought celebrities like you all lived in luxury apartments in the Minato district.”

“Are you mocking me?” YUKI looked up at him. “What kind of celebrity am I? The band is only just starting to get noticed, and I’m constantly worried the company will drop us. If that happens, all that’s left for me is to return to my hometown and get married.”

“Do you believe in fortune telling?” Ye Zhao suddenly asked.

“Huh?”

“I learned some fortune telling from a master once. Judging by your face, not only will the company not drop you, but within a year you’ll be wildly popular and become the top band’s lead singer.” Ye Zhao mimicked the fortune tellers he’d seen on TV, pretending to calculate. Though he was only pretending, Ye Zhao, having traveled through time, knew YUKI’s life trajectory very well. Right now things were still lukewarm, but by next year, they’d be on the verge of breaking out.

“Is that so…” YUKI’s tone was drawn out, her expression skeptical as she looked at Ye Zhao.

“Of course,” Ye Zhao replied, mimicking her cadence, grinning mischievously. “Besides, with your fierce temperament, the odds of you successfully getting married back home are probably even lower than the odds of your band making it big.”

YUKI shot him a sideways glance, her face saying, “I knew you were talking nonsense.” “By the way, could it be you’re unhappy because I stole your chance to play hero?”

“You found me out? I’m so regretful about it, my stomach hurts.”

“Isn’t your stomach hurting because you ate too much tea rice earlier?” YUKI teased him. “I’m not the kind of hothouse flower who needs someone to protect her.” She paused. “Besides, situations like this can happen anytime, and you won’t always be there. If I can’t protect myself, wouldn’t that be terrible?”

Her words were so on point that Ye Zhao found himself momentarily lost for a response, and the atmosphere fell into a brief silence. Perhaps everyone in this novel was doomed to lose their cool within three minutes. After walking side by side for a little while, Ye Zhao was just about to say goodbye when YUKI, walking on the inside of the road, suddenly faltered and sat down on the ground, exclaiming over and over, “It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!”

“What happened?”

“The heel of my shoe got stuck in the grate and I twisted my ankle,” she said, pointing at the ground. Ye Zhao crouched down to take a look. A black, tasseled stiletto sandal, at least seven or eight centimeters high, was wedged tightly in the drain cover, and YUKI’s right ankle was already swollen. Ye Zhao gently touched it, but at the slightest contact, YUKI gasped and brushed his hand away. “No, it hurts too much.”

“It’s probably sprained,” Ye Zhao stood up. “Let me take you to the hospital.”

“No need for a hospital,” YUKI shook her head. “Just help me get a taxi. And before that, can you help me up?”

“Help you? That’s too much trouble.” Ye Zhao thought for a second, then spread his arms and picked YUKI up horizontally. “This is easier.”

“Ah!” YUKI let out a startled yelp, caught off guard.

It was the first time he’d seen such a girlish side of her, and Ye Zhao couldn’t resist teasing, “Looks like we didn’t get the script wrong after all. The real hero-rescues-beauty scene is just starting.”

“Don’t get cocky!” YUKI turned her face away, refusing to look at him.

“By the way,” Ye Zhao carried her toward the main road, “do you like wearing such exaggerated stilettos?”

“It’s not like I like wearing them,” YUKI mumbled. “I had a magazine shoot this afternoon, so I specially wore them. Who’d wear shoes like this normally?”

“Someone as short as you can be a model? Japan’s standards for models must be pretty low.”

“You’re the short one! Besides, I’m just doing still photos!”

“I’m short? Ever seen a 1.82-meter ‘shorty’? As for you,” Ye Zhao looked down at her, mocking, “Carrying you is like holding an extra-large teddy bear.”

YUKI’s expression changed, and she threatened, “If you keep that up, I’ll bite you!” Unfortunately, in her current predicament, the threat lacked any menace.

Ye Zhao nodded at a trash bin by the roadside. “Try biting me. If you do, I’ll toss you in there.” Before he’d finished, a sharp pain shot through his arm. Ye Zhao sucked in a breath and looked—on his right forearm, two distinct rows of teeth marks gleamed proudly.

Without missing a beat, Ye Zhao strode to the trash bin and set YUKI down on top of its closed lid.

“Reflect on your actions here. I’m leaving,” he said deliberately, striding away. Of course, he’d never actually abandon an injured person on a deserted street at night—he just wanted to scare her a little.

But instead of yielding or apologizing as he’d imagined, YUKI called out loudly behind him, “Go ahead and leave! I’m grateful you helped me, but that doesn’t give you the right to mock me. Yes, I’m a fierce woman with a lousy figure, not cute at all, stuck in a band that can’t make it. People say that even if I put on glass slippers, I’ll never be Cinderella—but so what? Even so, I’m fighting desperately for my dreams! I’ve managed on my own until now, haven’t I? Even if you hadn’t shown up, it’s not like the bad guy succeeded!” Her voice cracked with emotion by the end.

Ye Zhao paused in his tracks. Suddenly, he realized that tonight, YUKI had first barely escaped a bad situation, then got hurt while still shaken, and he’d only managed to keep teasing her under the guise of helping. Taking advantage of someone’s vulnerability just to mock them—what kind of man did that make him?

The street was deserted in the night. Watching Ye Zhao’s figure disappear around the corner, YUKI pursed her lips, wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and looked down at her feet: her left foot still in a high heel, her right bare. The sorry state made her laugh at herself. After a moment, as if making up her mind, she used her left foot to kick off the high heel and watch it fly far away.

The soft sole of her foot touched the rough pavement, sending a wave of discomfort up her leg. Supporting herself on the trash bin with both hands and balancing on her left foot, YUKI slowly climbed down. When her right foot touched the ground, the sharp pain made her frown deeply.

“Such beautiful heels, and you just toss them away. You really are wasteful,” a man’s voice remarked with a hint of regret.

YUKI instinctively looked toward the corner.

Ye Zhao bent down and picked up the high heel. Under the streetlamp, he looked at YUKI, who was standing on one foot, braced against the wall. “Injured like this and still causing trouble—you’ve got a tenacious spirit, I’ll give you that.”

“What’s it to you?” YUKI’s nose tingled as she tried to sound tough. “I thought you’d left.”

“I only said I was leaving, not that I wouldn’t come back.” Ye Zhao revealed his left hand, previously hidden behind his back, holding the other high heel that had been stuck in the grate. “I figured these shoes must be expensive, and I couldn’t bear to let them go to waste, so I rescued them for you. Not to brag, but it took a lot of effort to pull this one free. You should thank me properly.”

“…It’s my stuff anyway. If I waste it, it’s not your money.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Someone as stingy as me can’t stand wasting their own things, and I feel bad even watching other people waste theirs. After all, waste brings divine retribution,” Ye Zhao said with a meaningful smile. He moved to her side, wrapped an arm around her waist, lifted her onto the trash bin, knelt down, and helped her put her shoe back on.

“Um…” YUKI looked at Ye Zhao’s broad back, hesitated, and said, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have bitten you earlier.”

“Since you’re so sincere, I’ll let it slide,” Ye Zhao replied, standing up and lifting her into his arms again. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

It’s said that during the bubble economy, taxis on the street were so busy that at night, even people waving ten-thousand-yen bills had to queue for ages. But those days were long gone. Ye Zhao had only waited a short while by the roadside with YUKI in his arms before a taxi pulled up.

The door opened automatically from inside, and Ye Zhao placed YUKI in the back seat.

“Thank you for tonight…” YUKI began, only to have Ye Zhao climb in after her. “Why are you getting in too?” Her farewell turned into a question.

“Of course I’m seeing this through to the end—making sure you get home safely.” Ye Zhao gave her a look as if she were slow-witted. “Otherwise, what are you going to do when you get to your building—hop up the stairs on one foot?”

…How could one person be this infuriating?