These words made Jiang Ling’s ears flush bright red, her chewing suddenly stiff and awkward, while in her heart, ten thousand wild horses galloped furiously past.
…Who in the world would say something so ridiculous?
There should be a limit to this kind of nonsense!
Right now, Jiang Ling really wanted to travel back in time and give two resounding slaps to the self who so easily agreed to Song Meng’s request.
Regret!
Ask her, and it’s nothing but regret!
But under the teasing yet gentle gazes of Song Father and Song Mother, Jiang Ling couldn’t just run away on the spot. She could only force out a dry laugh through clenched teeth: “Thank you… d-dear.”
“You’re welcome~”
Song Meng, clearly satisfied, withdrew her chopsticks, mischief glinting in her eyes.
After Jiang Ling finished saying this, she could obviously feel Song Mother’s joyful gaze resting on her. She quickly lowered her eyes, not daring to lift her head, her face burning as she silently ate her meal.
Next time, this kind of job must come with a fee!
Jiang Ling kept repeating this to herself while gnawing on the meat in her mouth, her face equal parts indignation and shame.
When the meal was almost done, Song Mother took the initiative to strike up a conversation: “Xiao Ling, you’re in the same class as our Mengmeng, right?”
At this, Jiang Ling hurriedly looked up and nodded respectfully: “Yes, Auntie.”
“What do you mean, ‘Auntie’? Can’t you try a different form of address~?”
Song Mother winked, looking very expectant.
Jiang Ling was stunned for a second, then realized what she meant. She bit her lip, hesitated for a long time, and finally ventured, “Aunt?”
“Eh, I thought you might call me Mom. What a pity.”
Song Mother’s face was full of mock disappointment, but soon she was all smiles again: “But ‘Aunt’… is very cute too.”
Jiang Ling’s face turned beet red at these words, and she discreetly shot Song Meng a glare.
This is all your fault!
Song Meng, on the other hand, just watched this warm and cheerful scene, her smile growing even deeper.
Song Father picked up a piece of food for Jiang Ling, then asked gently, “I heard from Mengmeng that you usually live at your part-time job. What about your parents?”
Upon hearing this, Song Meng looked at Jiang Ling, a little worried.
As a class officer, Song Meng knew Jiang Ling’s family situation, but she’d forgotten to tell her parents.
She was just about to change the subject, when she heard Jiang Ling reply with a shy smile: “Uncle, I’m an orphan. The place where I work provides free food and lodging, so I live there.”
Her words held not a trace of excess emotion—no sadness, no anger, nothing at all, just a calm statement of fact.
At this, Song Father’s hand, holding his chopsticks, froze in midair. He frowned slightly at Jiang Ling, then quickly said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”
“It’s all right.”
Noticing Song Father’s visible guilt, Jiang Ling shook her head and smiled unconcernedly: “You were just asking out of courtesy, not to hurt me, so please don’t worry about it.”
As for her parents, Jiang Ling only had some hazy and vague memories. She wasn’t cold-blooded enough to be without feeling, but at the very least, talk of her parents didn’t affect her mood.
“I never knew about this before.”
Song Mother’s eyes now brimmed with pity as she spoke repeatedly, “Lingling, if you ever need anything, just come to me. If I can help, I will.”
There were even tears shimmering in Song Mother’s eyes—obviously someone with a strong sense of empathy.
Jiang Ling didn’t refuse this kindness, instead giving her a grateful smile.
The meal was both warm and pleasant. Rubbing her now rounded belly, Jiang Ling felt more than a little satisfied.
Before they left, Song Father suddenly called out to Jiang Ling, handing her something like an envelope—beautifully wrapped—and spoke slowly: “Last time, I didn’t have time to prepare a gift. This time, let me make it up to you.”
“Ah… You’re too kind.”
Jiang Ling looked at the envelope in her hand, tilting her head in confusion, about to open it when Song Father added, “You two go on ahead. Your Aunt and I have some things to attend to. You’re welcome at our home any time.”
With that, he left with Song Mother, who was all smiles.
Jiang Ling, clutching the envelope, hurried to catch up with Song Meng who was walking ahead: “Uncle gave me this—what is it?”
Seeing this, Song Meng didn’t answer, but said, “Why don’t you open it and see?”
Jiang Ling carefully unwrapped the exquisitely packaged envelope. Through the open flap, she caught a glimpse of bright red.
She stared blankly for a few seconds, then reached in and pulled out a thick wad of cash.
“…Excuse me, this is?”
“8,888. Just a little meeting gift from an elder to a junior,” Song Meng explained, watching Jiang Ling’s stunned expression and chuckling, “He was probably afraid you’d refuse, so he made an excuse to leave early.”
After all, seeing how cautious and reserved Jiang Ling was, Song Father likely guessed she’d try to refuse the gift.
Feeling the thick stack of cash in her hand, Jiang Ling finally snapped back to her senses and quickly looked up, but before she could say anything, Song Meng’s cool fingertips pressed gently against her lips.
“You can’t refuse something like this—it would be disrespectful to the elder’s goodwill. Telling me won’t change that.”
In just a few words, Song Meng easily stopped Jiang Ling from saying what she wanted to.
This left Jiang Ling at a loss, her feelings complicated.
Song Mother and Song Father were treating her as Song Meng’s girlfriend—with genuine care and affection.
But in reality, the romance between her and Song Meng was fake—fragile as paper, ready to tear at a touch.
Feeling the warmth of their affection, Jiang Ling pressed her lips together, hesitating for a long time before looking at Song Meng.
She was looking down at a ride-hailing app, the tip of her nose tinged red from the cold, her profile quiet and alluring.
“Song Meng.”
“Hmm?”
“I still think… this isn’t right.”
Jiang Ling’s voice was muffled as she absentmindedly fiddled with Song Meng’s sleeve. Today, she was wearing a coat with some fluff on it; it felt rather nice.
At her words, Song Meng looked up and turned slightly. Jiang Ling’s poking finger landed directly over Song Meng’s chest.
The soft touch startled Jiang Ling, and she tried to pull her hand back, but Song Meng grabbed her.
“Which part isn’t right?”
Jiang Ling struggled to free her hand a few times but gave up after failing, letting the increasing warmth spread across their fingers. She lowered her head and spoke: “We’re not actually in a relationship.”
“This is deceiving Uncle and Aunt. If they find out it’s fake, they’ll definitely be upset. I don’t want to lie to such kind people, so—”
She looked up, meeting Song Meng’s deep, unyielding gaze, and the words she meant to say got stuck: “So… why don’t we, why don’t we…”
“Pfft.”
Song Meng suddenly laughed, poking at Jiang Ling’s now-pursed lips with her other hand: “Why’d you stop?”
As she spoke, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them in an instant.
Jiang Ling didn’t back away; she knew she’d end up caught anyway, so she let Song Meng pull her into an embrace.
“You should be able to tell—they really like you.”
Song Meng paused, then continued, “That kind of affection won’t change, no matter what my relationship with you is. So you don’t need to worry.”
Jiang Ling watched the faint white breath escaping Song Meng’s lips as she spoke and only then truly felt the bite of winter. She listened dully to Song Meng’s gentle voice, wanting to argue, but her head was pressed into Song Meng’s warm embrace, and her unsaid words dissolved into a soft hum.
“Mmph…”
Song Meng’s arms gradually tightened, her voice warm in Jiang Ling’s ear.
“So don’t even think about leaving me.”
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