147: Chapter 147 My throat really hurts

On Thursday, in the Recording Studio, Shen Nian finished singing the complete version of "left hand points to the moon" once again.

With a vocal range spanning three octaves, from the lowest note to the highest, she performed it in one breath.

Jiang Fan sat behind the mixing console and pressed the talkback button.

"That's good."

Shen Nian stood in front of the microphone, her chest heaving for a good while before it calmed down.

She took off her headphones and walked out of the Recording Studio, fine beads of sweat clinging to the tip of her nose.

"How was it?"

"Better than yesterday." Jiang Fan turned off the equipment.

That was an understatement.

From her first rehearsal to singing the entire song in one go today, Shen Nian's improvement was significant.

"The flight is at two tomorrow afternoon. Go home, pack your things, and get some sleep early."

Shen Nian gave a hum of agreement, screwed the lid onto her thermos, and walked out carrying her bag.

She stopped at the door.

"Are you... free tonight?"

Jiang Fan was tidying up the sheet music on the table, his movements pausing for a moment.

"Come eat at my place." Shen Nian said, and without waiting for his answer, she pulled the door open and left.

Jiang Fan stayed busy until 7:30 PM.

He went over the itinerary for the day of the finals with Li Cheng once more.

By the time he had cleared up the matters at hand, it was pitch black outside.

He took a taxi to Shen Nian's apartment building and took the elevator up.

He entered the six-digit code on the digital lock; with a beep, the door opened.

As he changed his shoes, he looked up—

Shen Nian was standing in the living room, wearing a pink lace nightgown.

It was a camisole style, with a lace trim around the neckline, the hem tightly covering her thighs, and two thin straps tied in knots at her shoulders.

She usually wore white T-shirts or hoodies at home; this was the first time Jiang Fan had seen her wear something like this.

Jiang Fan lowered his head and continued changing his shoes, not saying a word.

On the floor sat an open suitcase with a few changes of clothes folded inside, and a transparent makeup bag placed next to it.

"Are you all packed?"

"Almost."

"Have you eaten?"

"Waiting for you to cook."

Jiang Fan got up and went into the kitchen, stir-frying two simple dishes and boiling a pot of porridge.

Shen Nian leaned against the kitchen doorframe to watch him cook.

Her hands were behind her back, the tip of one foot tapping against the floor, swaying back and forth.

The hem of the pink lace swayed gently with her movements.

"Stop swaying, you're making me dizzy."

Shen Nian hummed, but didn't stop.

The two of them ate.

Jiang Fan cleared the dishes and washed them in the kitchen; in the intervals between the sound of the running faucet, he noticed there was no sound from the living room.

Usually at this time, Shen Nian would be curled up on the sofa scrolling through her phone, occasionally muttering about things in the comment sections; today, who knows what she was up to, but it was unusually quiet.

When Jiang Fan finished washing the dishes and came out, he saw Shen Nian sitting on the sofa, her hands clasped in front of her, fingers intertwined and twisting around each other.

Jiang Fan was all too familiar with this action.

Every time she wanted to say something but didn't know how to start, her fingers would start knotting up.

"What's wrong?"

"My... throat isn't feeling very well."

Jiang Fan glanced at her.

"I practiced all day; I can feel it when I swallow." Shen Nian touched her throat. "It doesn't hurt too much, it's just a bit tight. The finals are the day after tomorrow; what if when the time comes—"

"Then take something to soothe your throat and don't overthink it."

Shen Nian stamped her foot, her slipper making a slap sound against the floor.

"I'm serious! The finals are the day after tomorrow, you know yourself how demanding the chorus of "left hand points to the moon" is on the throat! If I get to the venue tomorrow and my throat still isn't fully recovered—"

"I know." Jiang Fan interrupted her. "I'll go brew some fat sea nut tea for you first."

He turned and went into the kitchen, dug out the fat sea nut and monk fruit he'd bought last time, and brewed a pot.

By the time he came out of the kitchen with the cup, Shen Nian was no longer in the living room.

The bedroom door was open.

Jiang Fan walked to the doorway and looked inside—

Shen Nian was sitting in front of the vanity, tying her hair.

She parted her hair in the middle in front of the mirror, gathering a handful on the left and a handful on the right.

One on the left and one on the right, in about the same position as when Jiang Fan had tied it for her last time, but neater than how he had done it; they were symmetrical, with the height exactly the same.

Shen Nian saw Jiang Fan at the door in the mirror and turned her head.

Twin tails paired with that pink lace nightgown, plus her entire little face exposed after finishing her hair—

Jiang Fan couldn't help but swallow hard.

"What are you doing?"

"Didn't you say it looked good last time?" Shen Nian's voice dropped a notch, her eyes fixed on the bottles and jars on the vanity, not looking at him.

Jiang Fan set the cup on the cabinet by the door.

Shen Nian stood up from the vanity.

As she walked over, her two ponytails bounced, hitting her shoulders.

She walked up to Jiang Fan and stopped, looking up at him.

Jiang Fan's hand was already raised.

He reached out and grabbed the ponytail on Shen Nian's right side, wrapped his fingers around it once, and pulled back.

Her hair was pulled, and Shen Nian's head tilted along with it. "Ouch—"

Jiang Fan didn't let go.

He lowered his head, meeting her gaze, the distance between their noses less than five centimeters.

Shen Nian's breathing became somewhat rapid, the ends of her two ponytails trembling slightly.

"Are you sure it's your throat that's not feeling well?" Jiang Fan asked.

Shen Nian's hand grabbed his wrist.

"It's my throat that's not feeling well."

By the time she finished this sentence, her ears were already burning red, spreading from the auricle all the way to the earlobe.

Then—

Her hand slid down from his wrist.

She slowly crouched down.

Jiang Fan gripped the bedroom doorframe tightly with both hands.

Shen Nian knelt on the floor, her two ponytails hanging beside her face, swaying back and forth with her movements.

There was only one sound in the room.

Three minutes later, Jiang Fan's fingers gripped the doorframe until they cracked, the wooden frame emitting a faint creaking sound.

Shen Nian looked up once halfway through, the corners of her eyes flushed red, moisture clinging to her eyelashes.

The camisole strap had already slipped down from her left shoulder, hanging on her forearm.

After another while.

Jiang Fan reached out, his fingers grabbing the roots of her two ponytails, and tightened his grip sharply.

Shen Nian let out a muffled groan, her head fixed in place, unable to move.

Her hands gripped his pant leg, her knuckles turning white.

"That's it." Jiang Fan's throat was a bit dry.

He pulled the coughing Shen Nian up from the floor.

Shen Nian's knees were numb from kneeling; when she stood up, her legs went soft, and she pitched forward.

Jiang Fan wrapped his arms around her waist and scooped her up.

Shen Nian was tossed onto the bed and bounced once.

Her two ponytails came undone, spreading out on either side of the pillow.

Jiang Fan pressed one knee onto the edge of the bed, his thumb wiping across the corner of her mouth, brushing away a bit of moisture.

Shen Nian turned her head away, her lips red and swollen, with some residue still left on her chin.

His hand followed the lace neckline downward, his fingertips hooking the other shoulder strap and pulling it down.

The nightgown slid down from both shoulders at the same time.

Shen Nian's hands gripped the bedsheet beneath her.

"Jiang Fan—"

"Hmm?"

"Be gentle. We have to catch a flight tomorrow."

"No promises."

The pink lace bunched at her waist.

Shen Nian's voice went from restraint at the beginning to completely uncontrollable later on.

Her twin tails were tossed into a mess on the pillow, her two hands resting limply on Jiang Fan's arms, her nails digging into his flesh unconsciously.

"I can't take it anymore—Jiang Fan—"

She wanted to call out to stop, but it was already too late.

Afterward.

Jiang Fan stared at the damp patch on the bedsheet and shook his head.

He got up and took a new one from the closet to spread on the bed.

Shen Nian was lying on her stomach, her face buried in the crook of her arm, only her flushed ear tips and the back of her neck visible.

That wrinkled nightgown was still hanging around her waist.

She wiggled her toes.

After a while, she turned over and lay flat on her back.

Staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, she raised her hand and touched her throat.

That feeling of tightness in her vocal cords after singing for several days in a row had completely vanished.

Shen Nian opened her mouth and gave a soft hum; the tone was clear and bright, without a trace of impurity.

She was quiet for a few seconds.

"It really works."

Jiang Fan didn't respond.

Shen Nian turned her face to look at him, the left ponytail having come undone with a large chunk of hair draped over her face, blocking one eye.

"My throat really wasn't feeling well."

"Mm, I know."

"You're not allowed to think anything else."

"I'm not thinking anything else."

Shen Nian hummed and buried her face back into the pillow.

The system panel automatically appeared before Jiang Fan's eyes.

[Total Lifespan Value obtained: 1500 points] (Deep Compatibility × 3)

[Current Lifespan Value: 49200 points]

[Remaining Lifespan: 101 days]

Shen Nian reached out a hand, groping until she grabbed Jiang Fan's arm, pulled it over, and rested her head on it.

After a while, her breathing gradually became steady.

She had fallen asleep.