Chapter 39: I’m Actually Dead.
Wanqing felt something in her temple twitch faintly. Whether it came from frustration, annoyance or pure disbelief, even she wasn’t entirely sure. She simply stared at Anning, who stared right back at her without the slightest bit of shame. Those green eyes remained fixed on her face, slightly unfocused from the alcohol yet still bright enough to make Wanqing feel strangely restless.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
Then Wanqing finally exhaled softly and said, "Come here."
Her voice remained calm and steady, giving away nothing despite the chaos slowly brewing inside her mind. She preferred it that way. There were already too many eyes around her tonight and the last thing she needed was anyone noticing even the slightest crack in her composure.
Han Luo immediately turned toward Wanqing, hesitation flashing briefly across his face.
No matter how many years he had spent beside her, there were still certain things that remained common knowledge. Gu Wanqing disliked people invading her personal space. She disliked unnecessary touching even more.
So why exactly was she agreeing to this?
No, more importantly... Why wasn’t she angry?
Before Han Luo could think any further, Anning suddenly began squirming in his arms.
"Han Luo, put me down," she whined, gently pushing against the armor covering his chest. "You’re too uncomfortable."
Han Luo lowered his eyes toward her and released a slow breath through his nose. Arguing with a drunk person felt about as useful as speaking to a wall. Carefully, he loosened the arm supporting her legs and slowly lowered her onto the ground.
The second her feet touched the floor, Anning wasted absolutely no time.
She immediately stumbled toward Wanqing.
Han Luo instinctively reached forward, worried she would trip, but stopped himself halfway.
Wanqing had already shifted slightly.
She calmly adjusted her position against the seat, leaning back fully as one arm stretched across the backrest behind her. Her posture looked relaxed, almost lazy, but Han Luo knew better than anyone that whenever Wanqing looked this calm, it usually meant she was paying attention to everything.
Anning continued moving forward with slow, careful steps. Her body swayed every now and then and several strands of loose white hair had fallen around her face, making her look unusually harmless.
Wanqing quietly watched her approach, until Anning stopped right in front of her.
Without hesitation, Wanqing reached out and wrapped a hand around Anning’s waist before tugging her closer.
The movement happened so naturally that even Wanqing paused for a second afterward.
Anning blinked slowly, then smiled.
Not her usual mischievous smile. Not that irritating grin she often wore whenever she wanted to provoke someone.
This one made her seem less like a tiger and more like a rabbit.
She now stood directly between Wanqing’s legs with her hands resting against either side of the seat beside Wanqing’s head. The distance between them had suddenly become far too small.
Close enough for Wanqing to catch the scent clinging to Anning.
Wanqing stared at her quietly, she stared back but neither of them moved.
After a long moment, Wanqing finally spoke.
"Han Luo, leave."
Han Luo remained standing there for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on Anning’s back before slowly shifting toward Wanqing.
He opened his mouth and closed it.
Then wisely decided that perhaps preserving his life was more important tonight.
"...Yes, Young Miss."
With that, he stepped out of the carriage and quietly shut the door behind him.
Anning could feel her heart racing wildly against her chest and for the first time that night, the haze clouding her head seemed to clear slightly. It wasn’t enough to sober her completely, but enough to make her aware of one thing.
She was very, very close to Wanqing, close enough to hear every breath. Close enough to feel the warmth between them.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to move. So instead, she did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
She moved closer.
Slowly, Anning shifted forward and placed her knees on either side of Wanqing’s waist. On normal days, she probably would’ve straddled her. Today, however, she simply found herself settling comfortably onto Wanqing’s lap.
The moment their bodies pressed together, Anning swallowed hard.
Their chests were flush against each other and the closeness suddenly felt overwhelming in a way she couldn’t explain.
"W-why are you looking at me like that?" Anning asked quietly, her voice trembling just enough to betray her.
Wanqing didn’t answer. Instead, she slowly lifted a hand and ran her fingers through Anning’s hair. Just as she had thought before, ridiculously soft. The strands slipped through her fingers so easily that she found herself doing it again.
And again.
Sometimes her fingers would glide through Anning’s hair absentmindedly and other times she’d pause just long enough to gently massage her scalp.
Her movements were gentle and unhurried. As though nothing except Anning mattered at that point.
"You really don’t know what you do to me, Tiger," Wanqing whispered softly, her voice sounding rougher than usual.
As she spoke, her hand slipped around Anning’s waist before pulling her closer. As if there was any space left between them.
Anning frowned immediately.
"What do I do to you?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused as she rested her head against Wanqing’s shoulder. "I’m not doing anything."
A quiet chuckle escaped Wanqing. Of course she would say that.
Wanqing lowered her eyes slightly but chose not to respond. Deep down, she knew that by the time Anning woke up tomorrow, she would regret every ridiculous thing she’d done tonight.
Including this.
Especially this.
The thought made a bitter smile tug at the corners of Wanqing’s lips.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then Anning suddenly shifted on her lap.
The movement made Wanqing’s body tense almost immediately.
"Mistress..." Anning murmured softly, making Wanqing turn her head slightly. "Do you think I’d ever get to go to the afterlife?"
As she spoke, Anning moved again, trying to get comfortable.
Her brows furrowed slightly. Something kept pressing uncomfortably against her lower half and she didn’t like it.
Wanqing slowly leaned back against the carriage seat.
"Afterlife?" she repeated quietly. "Is there truly such a place?"
Outside, the carriage had already begun moving and cold night air slipped in through the curtains, making Anning shiver slightly.
She curled closer without thinking.
"Yes," she muttered lazily. "I’d rather be in the afterlife than here."
Despite how low Anning’s voice was, Wanqing could hear everything. And the more Anning spoke tonight, the deeper the crease between her brows became.
Because nothing she said ever truly made sense.
"Why would you want to go to the afterlife?" Wanqing asked carefully, her eyes darkening slightly as she stared down at her.
Anning slowly lifted her head.
"Why?" she muttered before sitting upright.
Then she looked directly at Wanqing and said,
"That’s simple."
She paused.
"I’m actually dead."
