First Kiss Diary - Chapter 41

The girl tilted her head to listen carefully; a crooked stethoscope hung over her slightly reddened ear. Her fingertip and the pad of her finger pressed against his chest, the tremor conveyed through both sound and touch.

After a long moment, Ji Shiyan heard her voice—light as a feather, yet very certain.

Her eyelashes curled slightly: “Your heart is beating so fast.”

The girl in front of him was tipsy, the lower eyelids and the tip of her nose flushed with the rosy tint of wine. A loose white coat hung over her like an empty shell. She leaned half against the sofa, soft and indistinct, and said, “Your heart is beating so fast.”

A faint echo lingered in the living room. Ji Shiyan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tugged her clothing up a little.

He admitted, “Mm.”

The young girl’s pupils were very bright, impossible to tell whether it was the reflection of the light or their natural state, as if veiled by a mist that hinted at words left unspoken.

She changed position, half-kneeling on the sofa, inching closer to him.

Just as Ji Shiyan couldn’t figure out what she intended and thought he should probably comply and close his eyes, Ji Ning very deliberately adjusted the position of the stethoscope.

“One thousand and one,” she said.

Ji Shiyan opened his eyelids: “What?”

“Your heartbeat is… one thousand and one per minute,” Dr. Ji Ning withdrew his hand and sank back into the sofa, muttering to himself, “Hold on, let me think about what medicine would be best.”

“…………”

So she had been counting heartbeats just now?

The man closed his eyes and nodded silently.

Okay.

Ji Shiyan decided from that moment on to abandon his unfounded, colored prejudices and enter her world of topics.

“How could it be a thousand in a minute?”

She hugged the pillow, frowned, and tossed the question back at him: “I mean, how did you do it?”

“One thousand and one is in the storybook,” he said. “You miscounted.”

So he prepared to cooperate with the “doctor” and start counting again—

He wondered how many times that violently rising thing in his chest had actually jumped.

She didn’t count many; the girl grew tired, let her hand fall, and, leaning against the back of the sofa, fell asleep.

The man choked slightly, unable to speak.

He suspected she had come tonight just to mess with him.

Just as he was about to get up, music came from some direction — it must be her phone ringing.

The person lying on the sofa didn’t move a muscle; her breathing even became more steady.

If someone was calling her at this hour, it probably meant something important. Ji Shiyan thought of answering for her, but his hand hesitated in midair.

The phone was clearly not in the outside pocket, and she had wrapped her coat tightly around herself. So how could he open her coat in a way that would seem gentlemanly? If she woke up, would she kick him squarely in the skull?

The man propped one hand on the back of the sofa and was bending over when Ji Ning opened her eyes.

……

The circulating air seemed to still for a moment. He lowered his gaze without a word; each lash fell like the shadow of a fan.

The girl stirred twice, as if she knew what he was looking for. She mysteriously pulled her phone from behind her, leaned in close and whispered into his ear as if sharing a secret: “Surprised? It’s here.”

Having finished speaking, she curled the corner of her mouth smugly.

Her breath was moist, carrying the taste of grape wine as it landed on his earlobe, like a current that would spread.

Ji Shiyan’s spine prickled; he quickly turned over and got off the sofa.

…What exactly is this devilish thing called alcohol.

He cleared his throat twice. “Answer the phone.”

Ji Ning held her breath, stared at the caller ID, then answered the phone: “What’s up?”

“I’m back. Where are you?” Nono’s voice on the other end sounded a little urgent. “I heard you were sick? Or did something happen?”

“I’m fine, I’m not sick.” She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling, zoning out.

Nono was perceptive: “What’s with that voice? Did you drink? Are you drunk?”

Ji Ning thought for two seconds, then said seriously, “I’m not drunk, how could I be? I have such a high tolerance, no matter how much I drink I never get drunk, and I also didn’t—”

When Ji Shiyan heard this rambling, he stood up and went to her side, spreading his hands: “I’ll take it.”

Strangely, despite how muddled her words were, she knew he meant to answer the phone.

She happened to be tired and didn’t feel like talking, so she handed the phone to him.

The man was much clearer-headed, explained the situation in a few words, and told Nuonuo, “She got drunk. Can you come pick her up? I’ll send you the address to your phone shortly.”

Nuonuo quickly agreed, “Okay, okay, thank you so much.”

Because Shuang Ji and Ji were in the middle of recording when the emergency occurred, after Ji Shiyan called to stop recording he drove straight to the hospital with Ji Ning. His phone was on silent and he didn’t answer calls, so Jiang Sheng couldn’t reach him and had to go find Nuonuo.

Nuonuo learned the situation from Jiang Sheng, and as soon as she got off the plane she rushed to where Jiang Sheng was. He was on the phone while they talked. The two of them were sitting in a café, waiting for Ji Shiyan to send the address.

The exact address quickly appeared in the inbox. Nono showed it to Jiang Sheng: “Do you know where this is?”

Jiang Sheng confirmed three times before speaking: “Ji Ning is now… at Ji Shiyan’s house?!”

“It’s strange to be at someone’s home?” Nono asked. “You can’t very well take her to a hotel room—if they get photographed, wouldn’t that be the end of it?”

“A little strange.” Jiang Sheng paused. “Because Ji Shiyan is a neat freak. Bringing a drunk person home… in the past ten years or so, I haven’t seen it happen.”

“Treat special cases with special measures.”

Nono grabbed her bag in a hurry. “Let’s go. I’ll find my Ning, you go find your brother.”

……

Half an hour later, Agent Jiang knocked on Ji Shiyan’s door right on time.

The man had already showered and, dressed in loungewear, unlocked the door.

Nono rushed in first to look for her artist. Just as Jiang Sheng was about to follow, someone blocked the doorway by lifting a leg.

Jiang’s manager, thinking he understood, said, “What, showing off how long your legs are?”

Ji Shiyan shook his head. “You can’t come in.”

“……”

The two of them stood there in a stalemate. Over there, Ji Ning was being dragged up from the sofa by Nono; as they left, he kept mumbling, “Going for drinks?” Nono’s voice was gradually swallowed by the closing elevator doors.

“Drinks? Look at my auntie—your face is already swollen from drinking…”

Jiang Sheng glanced back to make sure they were gone, then started playing the sympathy card: “I looked for you all day, I was really worried to death. Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Was your phone on silent?”

The phone sitting on the man’s desk chimed at just the right moment; it was a text from Nono: [We’re in the car now. I really owe you today—thank you.]

Hearing the music, Jiang Sheng: …?

The man clasped his hands and kindly explained to his manager, “He blocked you.”

“Fine, then—our friendship of over ten years ends here. But before I go, I must tell you, tonight I didn’t book a hotel; I’ll be sleeping rough, and I might just sleep on your doorstep.”

Ji Shiyan raised an eyebrow and began to close the door: “Fine.”

Seeing that the sympathy card wasn’t working, Jiang Sheng quickly put his hand in the gap of the door and used his secret trick.

“See? These hands—today I drove the car, they went through dust back and forth, touched the stair railing, even felt tree bark.”

Ji Shiyan: “…”

“If you don’t let me in, I’ll smear these hands on your pristine robe.”

“……………………”

Even knowing he couldn’t fully trust Jiang Sheng’s words, Ji Shiyan—who had serious cleanliness issues—still took two steps back and tugged at his robe.

“Come in, take off your shoes, and go shower right away.”

“Got it!” Jiang Sheng, pleased to have achieved his goal, happily entered the room, not forgetting to admire himself, “As expected of me.”

After taking a shower and coming out, Manager Jiang started scheming for himself again: “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

He figured Ji Shiyan probably wouldn’t let him take the bed either, so he very naturally prepared to crash on the sofa: “The sofa?”

The man narrowed his eyes, the image of Ji Ning curled up here in a drowsy sleep flashing through his mind.

There was no way he would let Jiang Sheng lie down here again.

“You sleep in the guest room.”

“Ha, so righteous,” Jiang Sheng bumped his shoulder, “good brother.”

After a long day, everyone was tired. Jiang Sheng went back to his room early to rest; Ji Shiyan watched a bit of a movie, then went into the bedroom.

The bedside lamp was still on. He casually pulled out a professional book and glanced at it, but couldn’t help feeling a weight on his chest, as if her hand were still pressing there along with the stethoscope.

The room was quiet; the sound of his heartbeat still seemed traceable.

The man suddenly leaned over, switched off the light, pulled the covers up and closed his eyes.

Stop thinking. Sleep.

…

At four in the morning, Ji Shiyan threw back the covers.

He couldn’t sleep.

It felt as if the moment he closed his eyes his heart would leap out of his throat, beating on and on, one thump after another, with no sign of stopping.

He put on his headphones, grabbed a jacket, and walked toward the living room.

Because he hadn’t slept from watching the show, Jiang Sheng suddenly poked his head out of the room. “What are you doing?”

“…”

Ji Shiyan drank a glass of water and glanced at him. “Morning run.”

“Four in the morning… a morning run?” Jiang Sheng thought he must be hearing things. “Not even the national team runs at four AM. Are you refusing to admit you’re almost thirty and trying to borrow another five hundred years from heaven?”

The man’s face was expressionless: “If I could live five hundred years, the first thing I’d do is put you in prison.”

Jiang Sheng zipped his lips and shut up.

///

Ji Ning was completely unaware that Ji Shiyan hadn’t slept all night; she slept until the sun was high before getting up.

She had drunk the night before, and sure enough her face was a bit puffy in the morning.

She dug out her anti-swelling massager, put on face cream, and began to push and pull in front of the mirror.

Song Yu stood just behind her, watching.

Ji Ning seemed thoughtful: “If a reporter snapped a photo of my face, what would Zhong Fei do—post twelve Weibo updates in a row complaining about my face…”

“Wait!” Song Yu interrupted her, “Let me.”

As if on cue, Song Yu had already started imitating the tone of those shady marketing accounts—

“Ji Ning raw photos breaking news: facial swelling and stiffness, must have just come out of the hospital.”

“Shocking! A certain popular young actress has gone back for a face-slimming injection again!”

“The group’s abuzz today — Ji Ning was photographed this morning with that facial expression. What level is that in the entertainment circle?”

Song Yu wanted to roll her eyes into the sky and couldn’t help snapping back at her own imagination: “What other level could it be? Top-tier beauty — the sour chickens only deserve to ask what level she is.”

Ji Ning nodded repeatedly: “You’ve learned their essence. If you ever can’t find a job, go be a gossip account.”

“I wouldn’t,” Song Yu said. “That’s so mean, it’ll shorten your life. Doing so many rotten things — how could you sleep at night?”

“They don’t think they’re immoral at all.”

After all, they only asked a question and screenshotted the harsh comments from forums. They didn’t swear a single word, but guided netizens to steer the tide, occasionally liking a few critical comments to push them to the front page, keeping themselves spotless—maybe even fancying themselves the entertainment industry’s disciplinary committee.

“By the way, that script on your desk…”

When Song Yu had nothing to do she liked to flip through her scripts: “Why do I see a few that aren’t idol dramas?”

“Yeah, two of them are straight dramas.”

The buzz from the dubbing segment of “Echoes of Voice” brought her serious-drama opportunities that rising actresses in the industry rarely got.

After all, idol dramas are idol dramas; no actor can play idol roles forever. Transitioning is the inevitable path to extend an actor’s career, but few idol-type performers can pull off serious drama well.

Frankly, serious dramas require real acting. In idol dramas, if you look good you can get away with making a few faces and gestures and fool the young audience. Serious dramas have a much broader market; without solid acting skills you simply won’t be accepted by viewers.

That’s why many young leading actresses start learning about investments early — they know they can’t go the route of playing the ingenue in serious dramas, so they try to rake in as much money as they can while the opportunities exist.

“You want to act in serious dramas? You’re only twenty, aren’t you in no rush?”

Ji Ning shook her head: “Not in a rush. But serious dramas have nothing to do with age. I’m not playing the male or female lead; I just need to find a role that suits me.”

She didn’t have the stubbornness of some small-time actresses who “won’t play supporting roles” or “won’t watch anything that isn’t a top-rated show.” For her, as long as the script was good, the character offered room to explore, and the persona was well-crafted, she was willing to take the part.

Appearing in a serious, A-list drama as the child of a veteran actor wasn’t a bad move either — you could learn a lot of techniques and knowledge.

You couldn’t spend ten years doing idol dramas and then, at thirty, suddenly decide to change your image — that would be too jarring and would most likely end in a disastrous performance.

She needed to pave the way for the future; taking things step by step wasn’t suitable for an entertainment industry as fiercely competitive as this.

Moreover, all those prestigious awards are reserved for serious dramas; big prizes never favor idol dramas.

If she wanted awards to prove herself, she would have to start paying much more attention now.

“However, these two scripts are mediocre,” Ji Ning said, “so I probably won’t take them.”

She would wait until she came across a good script before accepting one.

The first step toward a serious drama has to be taken more carefully.

“Fair point, I thought so too.”

Song Yu snapped his fingers in front of her. “We’ve talked so much; shouldn’t we get to the topic I’m most interested in? Nuo Nuo said you were drunk last night and Ji Shiyan took you to his place. What is his home like? Nice?”

“Did you go to his place,” Ji Ning pressed his temple, “I always thought it was at the hospital.”

“Then it seems you really did drink a lot,” Song Yu said with a teasing smile, “So what did you two do?”

“I can’t remember clearly… I think I was going to cosplay. At first he disagreed, but in the end he couldn’t resist, so…”

Song Yu’s eyes practically started to glow: “You just played?”

She pondered for a moment: “I guess.”

“What does it feel like?!” Song Yu felt her throat heat up, “What does it feel like to play with Ji Shiyan!! Is he skilled?!”

“What does it feel like,” Ji Ning didn’t even realize Song Yu had steered the conversation elsewhere, repeated and replied, “It doesn’t feel like anything, it’s about the same as when we were kids—didn’t you ever play house when you were a kid?”

Song Yu felt like he might be having a mini stroke: “…playing house?”

“Yeah, like being a doctor treating a patient.”

“Superior? What’s superior about it—his heart seems to beat a thousand times, is that supposed to be superior?”

Song Yu twisted his face in bewilderment, stared at her for five seconds, then turned and walked away.

“You got drunk and ended up alone in a room with your idol, and you, of all people, pull out a stethoscope to examine him?! Are you out of your mind, Ji Ning?!”

With a long sigh, Song Yu was exasperated at his lack of seriousness.

“You’re hopeless.”

///

They still had an afternoon shoot for This Place Has Stars, so Ji Ning didn’t argue further with Song Yu about the examination; he slapped on a face mask and went to the set.

Luckily her recovery was good, and her face returned to normal before the shoot.

As soon as she entered the makeup room, even the makeup artist looked skeptical: “You’re barefaced?”

Ji Ning was momentarily taken aback, touching her cheek: “Yeah, I haven’t come with makeup on.”

“Alright then, sit,” the makeup artist sighed, “I was going to add some contouring, but seems unnecessary.” She shook her head, “I finally understand what they mean by being born to do this job.”

It wasn’t any more hers than the wine.

After hair and makeup, Ji Ning began waiting for the cameras to roll, sitting by the flowerbed and reading the script.

When she was nearly done she heard a commotion, looked up, and saw Ji Shiyan.

Producer Ji really was quite diligent; sometimes she felt he cared even more than the production manager.

At that moment Ji Shiyan happened to look over at her; he bent his eyes and smiled slightly, as if greeting her.

The script spread over the girl’s lap was stirred by the wind, rustling loudly; a spring that had long passed seemed to return in that instant.

Ji Shiyan’s heartbeat, which had gradually calmed after his morning run, grew lush again with the sprouting grass and flying orioles.

It felt as if a sound of something settling had passed from his chest.

—It’s love, isn’t it.

It wasn’t just an ordinary fondness for her anymore, nor a romantic illusion brought on by filming a variety show; the heartbeat in that moment was real and unmistakable.

It was love.

Whether morning or night, in sunshine or bitter cold, whenever he saw her there flowed through him—along with his heartbeat, through his pulse—countless joys upon joys.

When she smiled, he felt as if the November sky itself was about to melt away.

Author’s note: Salt is sulky and flirtatious, I really like it