Chapter 45: Please Stay Away From Her

With a click, the old security door was pulled open.

Jiang Cheng stepped in first and fetched a still-sealed pair of slippers for Wang Ziyue.

“I’ll go boil some water.”

Jiang Cheng hurried into the kitchen. 

Wang Ziyue followed, looking around the simple yet warm little apartment.

On the slightly cluttered coffee table sat a tray holding several green tangerines.

A school-uniform jacket was tossed on the fabric sofa; Jiang Cheng casually hung it on the rack in the corner of the living room.

When she turned around, she caught sight of Wang Ziyue standing perfectly still.

Wang Ziyue had her hands pressed together in prayer. 

Her long golden hair fell forward as she bowed her head, hiding most of her face.

A silent moment of mourning.

“My dad was really young, wasn’t he?”

Wang Ziyue turned and saw the girl gazing quietly at the portrait.

“He’s been gone far longer than the years he was with us. Sometimes when I think of him, all I can picture is his back.”

Jiang Cheng’s voice was calm, as though she were talking about the most ordinary thing in the world.

“Uncle, he…”

“An accident. Plane crashes are so rare, yet it happened to him.”

Jiang Cheng gently touched the black-and-white photo in the frame.

“Back then, things at home were really tough…” The memory made her tone sink.

Wang Ziyue lightly patted her back. 

She rarely felt empathy; her father had taught her to think rationally so she could remain unshaken in the business world.

Yet the girl’s quiet sorrow made her heartstrings tremble uncontrollably.

“I think it started after I met you that luck finally decided to stand on my side.”

The heavy atmosphere in the house lifted. 

Her relationships at school had improved, her mother had switched jobs and gotten a raise, and their finances were getting better.

Jiang Cheng gave a faint smile, turned, and went back to the kitchen to make tea.

“I dare not take credit for that.” 

Wang Ziyue followed her. 

The kitchen was just big enough for two people.

She watched Jiang Cheng put tea leaves into two mugs, one black, one white.

“This black one is mine. You can use it. All we have left are paper cups…” 

Jiang Cheng shook the black mug, then set it on the counter and poured in hot water.

Wang Ziyue guessed the white one belonged to Jiang Xiaoyue.

The rising steam blurred her vision. 

She leaned sideways and gently blew; the floating tea leaves swirled once.

Jiang Cheng carried both mugs by their handles into the living room. 

Wang Ziyue, as always, followed behind.

After they sat down, Jiang Cheng suddenly spoke again. 

“The scholarship, Mom’s job, and that time I sprained my ankle…”

Wang Ziyue blinked twice before realising the girl was continuing their earlier topic.

“But those things weren’t because of me. You earned the scholarship through your own hard work. Your mom was headhunted because she’s excellent at her job. And when you got hurt at Lihua Hotel… I couldn’t exactly ignore you.”

Wang Ziyue herself was stunned after she finished speaking.

In the past, she would never have let someone stay in the first place.

She hadn’t really thought about when her fondness for Jiang Cheng had begun.

Their meeting had started with something bizarre, but everything that followed had spiralled completely out of control.

Upon reflection, she had no idea when that faint flutter had turned into a roaring wave…

Her care for the girl grew stronger every day, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to want to be good to her.

“Hm?”

“Nothing…” 

Wang Ziyue cradled the mug with both hands clasped together.

“You’ll burn yourself holding it like that.” 

Jiang Cheng noticed Wang Ziyue’s grip tightening.

“Hiss—” 

A sharp sting shot through Wang Ziyue’s palm.

She let go. 

The bottom of the mug tapped lightly against the table with a crisp clink.

Jiang Cheng grabbed her hand and opened it—thankfully only a red mark.

“Go rinse it under cold water.” 

Jiang Cheng pulled her up. 

Wang Ziyue stared at the hand being held as they walked into the bathroom.

The narrow space forced them almost chest-to-back. 

Jiang Cheng didn’t realise Wang Ziyue was practically draped over her from behind.

“Does it hurt?” 

She turned her head.

Wang Ziyue hadn’t had time to step back; their noses brushed.

Wang Ziyue clearly saw the evasion and panic flashing in the girl’s eyes.

“Uh… I’ll do it myself.” 

Wang Ziyue pointed at her captured arm.

“Mm…” 

Jiang Cheng turned her face away so Wang Ziyue couldn’t see her expression.

That perfume again—resonating inside her nose.

Wang Ziyue watched the cold water run over her palm.

She tried to close her fist but couldn’t grip anything.

When they came out of the bathroom, Wang Ziyue glanced at her watch. 

“I should probably get going.”

It had only ever been a stolen slice of time anyway.

Jiang Cheng nodded calmly, making no move to keep her—like she wanted her gone as soon as possible.

Wang Ziyue rubbed the girl’s hair in mild annoyance. 

The silky strands slipped through her fingers like water.

“So eager for me to leave? Hm?”

“Work is important.” 

Jiang Cheng’s answer was perfectly polite.

Wang Ziyue changed back into her shoes. 

Before leaving she looked deeply at the girl one last time.

Half of Jiang Cheng’s face was lit by the light from the hallway; the other half lay in shadow, unreadable.

“I’m going then. Jiang Jiang… will you miss me?”

For a split second the flawless mask on Jiang Cheng’s face faltered. 

It took her a long time to answer.

“If you want me to, Sister… if that’s what you hope for…”

Wang Ziyue had no idea what expression she herself wore right then. 

She said goodbye again and turned to leave.

At least she wasn’t singing a solo, right?

Yet the girl’s wavering attitude tormented her. 

They had clearly grown closer, yet after one night everything seemed to slide backward again.

Should she try harder?

A sudden jazz ringtone snapped her out of her thoughts. She pulled out her phone.

An unexpected name flashed on the screen.

【Auntie】

In a private room at a café near the company, Jiang Xiaoyue kept checking the time, one hand pressing down on a document on the table.

After the earlier phone call, she and Wang Ziyue had agreed to meet here.

She had only just learned that the owner of this café was also Wang Ziyue.

On her third glance at her phone, the door opened. 

Wang Ziyue walked in carrying two large bags of groceries and one small bag.

She gave Jiang Xiaoyue an apologetic nod. 

“Sorry, Auntie. Traffic was a little bad.”

As she spoke she placed the black plastic bags in the corner of the table and set the small bag on the sofa.

“President Wang, coming back from grocery shopping?” 

Jiang Xiaoyue’s eyes lingered on the black bags.

“Sort of… I bought them at the market right downstairs from your place.” 

Wang Ziyue smiled. 

“The vendors were so enthusiastic I ended up buying a bit more.”

She planned to take them to her parents’ house later—she couldn’t finish that much alone.

“Oh… so you drove Little Cheng home…”

“Mm. It’s hard to get a cab from my place anyway.” 

Wang Ziyue set her handbag on the sofa beside the small bag.

“Thank you for the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I invited her over; of course I should send her home properly.”

Jiang Xiaoyue listened, and the smile at the corners of her mouth faded a few degrees.

Her features carried a natural gentleness, like a compassionate bodhisattva—soft brows and kind eyes that made people feel at ease.

But right now, staring expressionlessly, she was a little frightening.

“Auntie?”

“I’ll be direct. I hope you can keep some distance from Little Cheng.”

“What… do you mean by that?”

“Little Cheng is still young and doesn’t understand many things. But President Wang… she’s my only daughter. I just want her to grow up safe and sound. I don’t need her to be exceptional—just an ordinary life would be fine.”

From Wang Ziyue’s perfectly styled hair to her spotless shoes, nothing about her screamed “ordinary.”

“That hair tie on your wrist… it’s my daughter’s, isn’t it?”

Jiang Cheng probably hadn’t even noticed Wang Ziyue was wearing the hair tie she’d left behind, but Jiang Xiaoyue spotted it immediately.

It left Wang Ziyue deeply embarrassed, as if all her shameful little thoughts had been dragged into broad daylight.

“I don’t know—or rather, I’m not sure… President Wang, do you really like Little Cheng?”

“Auntie! I do! I like her!”

The ever-calm, ever-composed Wang Ziyue had the calm ripped right off her face in an instant.

“Then why her? Why my daughter?” 

Jiang Xiaoyue’s expression grew colder. 

She rarely lost her temper, but right now she was teetering on the edge.

“I don’t know…”

Wang Ziyue realised she had lost her composure. The struggle in her eyes was plain for Jiang Xiaoyue to see.

“By the time I realised it, I already knew it was love.”

“But your life experiences and backgrounds are so different—how can I believe this feeling of yours won’t fade with time? Do you remember what you told me the last time we spoke?”

Jiang Xiaoyue was like a mother lion.

Wang Ziyue lowered her head like a chastised student.

“You said you wanted to sponsor her. That couldn’t possibly have been an emotional investment, right?! Hm?!”

“Auntie…”

“I’m afraid I don’t deserve to be called Auntie anymore. President Wang, Little Cheng is still in school. Her understanding of love is still forming. Can you guarantee that whatever fondness she feels right now is actually love?”

“You said Little Cheng likes me?”

“Is that the point?” 

Jiang Xiaoyue pressed a hand to her forehead—she had let the guess slip in a moment of haste.

Even she, as the mother, couldn’t see through exactly what feelings her daughter held toward Wang Ziyue.

“She likes me… yes, she likes me.” 

Wang Ziyue suddenly perked up again.

“President Wang, I don’t mean to pour cold water, but kids her age often can’t distinguish between admiration and love… You’ve helped her so much; it’s normal for her to feel grateful.”

“It doesn’t matter if she can’t tell the difference—I can see clearly enough.” 

Wang Ziyue straightened. 

“And of course, I will definitely earn your support.”

“Support you with what?”

“Supporting me in pursuing your daughter, obviously.” 

Wang Ziyue suddenly grabbed Jiang Xiaoyue’s hand, startling her.

“I don’t just want to be with her—I want to marry her.”

“You—” 

Jiang Xiaoyue looked at that head of golden hair and felt even more irritated.

“I still hope you’ll keep your distance.”

Suppressing the anger in her chest, Jiang Xiaoyue pushed the document she had been pressing toward Wang Ziyue.

Wang Ziyue turned it over and saw the four big characters on top: 【Resignation Letter】.

“This is my resolve, President Wang.” 

There was not a trace of wavering in Jiang Xiaoyue’s eyes.

Wang Ziyue’s fingers tightened fiercely around the letter.