Chapter 45: She Might Have a Little Crush on Qi Lian
“I’ll have it printed, frame it, and send it over to you,” Qi Lian said. “I’ll also print another one to put in this album.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan casually replied, “It looks like the album is full.”
Qi Lian: “There’s one page left. It’s enough.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
She suddenly went silent, realizing the subtext in Qi Lian’s words—there wouldn’t be another unlucky person like her again.
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “What do you think about that virus…”
Qi Lian: “Hasn’t it been silent for over half a year?”
Suddenly, Jiang Xiaoyuan didn’t know how to feel. So, Qi Lian had long known—the virus was likely no longer a threat, and their peculiar, protective relationship in this unfamiliar world was probably over too.
Jiang Xiaoyuan forced a smile, realizing she was reluctant. She had always known that once their common enemy was gone, the person who had always been there for her wouldn’t be either. Qi Lian didn’t have that obligation, and she didn’t have the audacity to expect it. Even when things were tough, she never allowed herself to rely on anyone.
But though her rational mind accepted it, her emotions struggled to cope.
He was the only person in this world who knew where she came from, one of the few who had helped her in her darkest times. And the reason that “one of the few” had become the “only” was because Jiang Xiaoyuan had to admit—she might have a little crush on Qi Lian.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t need to remind herself not to overthink things.
But what good was having a little crush? She still didn’t know his family background or his job, only having a superficial understanding of him. She had no idea how deep the waters ran. She’d never been in a balanced romantic relationship before; all her previous involvements were more like playful flings with people like Huo Boyu.
In the past… Feng Ruixue had been right. If she wasn’t standing tall with all the advantages, she didn’t know how to interact with others. Beneath her arrogance, there was an unspeakable insecurity, like deeply rooted weeds, ever-present.
Looking back, it was hard to imagine how someone like her—wealthy, beautiful—could ever feel insecure.
Maybe she was the only one who truly knew the truth behind her facade of gold and beauty, which was hollow and decayed inside.
Jiang Xiaoyuan pushed down her chaotic thoughts, unwilling to show the slightest hint of concern. She lowered her head and flipped through the album to cover up her feelings, then nonchalantly asked, “Now that you won’t have to run around anymore, what are you planning to do?”
“We’ll see,” Qi Lian said. “I’ve got some money that a few friends have been managing for me. Some investments are doing well, others not so much because the market in that sector has been sluggish lately. I’m thinking of pulling the money out for now and investing in something else.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan nodded indifferently, glancing at the sunlit floor, pausing for a moment before saying, “I might go abroad with my boss soon. The special effects makeup industry here isn’t as advanced as over there, so I’ll go study and exchange ideas for a few months…”
Her words seemed out of place. She realized they were poorly organized, and for a moment, she was at a loss on how to continue.
Qi Lian suddenly said, “Why does that sound like you’re trying to cut ties with me?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
Qi Lian: “If the virus is gone for good, will you pretend not to know me when you see me on the street? Just because it’s gone, I can’t still ask you to dinner from time to time?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…Of course not.”
Her heart lifted ever so slightly, hovering in a delicate balance. She thought: “But why would you still want to find me?”
Qi Lian crossed his legs slightly, tapping his fingers on his knee for a moment. “I’m serious. I think your industry is quite profitable. If your studio takes off, I’d consider investing. Just let me know when there’s an opportunity—I’m sure you won’t let me lose money, right?”
The small bit of hope Jiang Xiaoyuan had lifted instantly hit the ground with a casual thud. Since it hadn’t risen very high, the fall wasn’t painful, but lying flat on the ground, it felt a little boring.
Still, if the studio really wanted to grow, it might indeed need a few shareholders. This wouldn’t be charity work anymore because Jiang Xiaoyuan believed the studio wouldn’t lose money.
She reluctantly perked up: “What scale of investment are you thinking?”
If it was around a hundred or two hundred thousand, maybe she could arrange a meeting with Jiang Bo to discuss it later.
Qi Lian: “There’s a horse ranch in the western suburbs where I’m the majority shareholder. It was doing well, but in the past couple of years, with the changing policy environment, you know how it is… Luxury spending has cooled off. The market might not pick up for the next three to five years, so I’m thinking of pulling out. What do you think? Is that enough?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s knees nearly buckled; she almost knelt down. She didn’t even have time to collect her shattered heart as she glared at Qi Lian with hatred, thinking: “Why don’t rich people get burned to death?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “So why are you working as a tabloid journalist? What kind of social vengeance are you exacting?”
Qi Lian: “I started wandering around at a very young age. Once, I went abroad, and I told my family I was going to study journalism—of course, I never actually did. After a few months, I was off chasing someone else to another place. Now that I’m back, I have to put on a show for a while. Once I’ve pretended long enough, I’ll quit in a couple of days.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
After the little pink car that had been following her drove off, Jiang Xiaoyuan said her complicated goodbyes to Qi Lian and took a taxi home alone. Once she collected her thoughts, she forced herself to stop dwelling on unnecessary distractions. Bored, she sent a message to Jiang Bo: “How’s the house search going?”
Jiang Bo didn’t respond; he was sitting in a real estate office, feeling agitated as he took a call.
“I didn’t,” Jiang Bo swiftly signed the rental contract, threw down the pen, and rubbed his brow forcefully. “I already resigned from the school like you wanted, what more do you want… I can’t just up and leave, can I? I need to complete the resignation process properly. If I disappear, they’ll call the police… What girl? That young girl was my former assistant, hired by the school. That day she just ran after me to give me a bank statement. Don’t bother her.”
The other person said something unknown.
Jiang Bo: “Where would there be so many men in this line of work? Stop making a scene…”
That sentence seemed to poke a hornet’s nest. Through the phone, even the rental agent next to him could hear the other side’s hysterical screaming. The agent stood by quietly, not daring to make a sound.
Jiang Bo waited calmly for the other person to finish yelling. His expression was less annoyed than it was full of disdain, but his tone remained soft, as if he had split into two distinct halves, each entirely detached from the other.
“From now on, if I eat out, are you going to investigate the waitstaff’s family history?” Jiang Bo said softly. “You made me quit my job and change careers. Fine, I did it. What more do you want? Do you want me dead?”
The person on the other end seemed to have started crying.
“Alright, I’m handling something outside, I’ll be home soon. Tonight… I’ll eat at home tonight, don’t cry anymore.” Even the best makeup couldn’t hide the exhaustion on his face. Jiang Bo sighed and said quietly, “Alright, mom, I love you. Goodbye.”
He hung up the phone and leaned heavily into the soft leather chair, as if that brief conversation had completely drained him.
The rental agent smiled at him: “My mom’s the same, always giving me a hard time. If she’s not criticizing me, she’s pushing me to go on blind dates. Look at me—I spend all day working overtime and the rest of the time arguing with my mom at home.”
Jiang Bo responded with a faint, somewhat cold smile. He didn’t want to continue the conversation, so he pulled out a copy of Jiang Xiaoyuan’s ID that she had given him when she first became his assistant. “I won’t pick up the keys for now. Tonight or tomorrow, wait for this person to come with the ID to collect them. Just give them to her.”
After that, he adjusted the hat that was covering a wound on his head and stood up, striking a graceful figure as he left.
The intermediary clerk was stunned by Teacher Jiang’s emphasis. She blushed and sent him to the door. She probably would never know that having a mom who constantly nags and argues was one of Jiang Bo’s lifelong dreams.
Unfortunately, that was never going to happen.
The woman Jiang Bo called “mom” wasn’t his biological mother; she was his adoptive mother—or at least, that’s what people thought. After all, from the outside, it appeared that way.
He had been adopted when he was already past 13, just shy of the age limit for adoption. Some kids who develop early can look almost like adults at that age. They’ve already grown all the smarts they need and know almost everything they’re supposed and not supposed to know. Most people wouldn’t want to adopt a child like that.
But who could say no to a beautiful, wealthy woman who appeared to be so gentle?
Especially when her reasoning was so convincing—an older child who can take care of themselves is less trouble. She was willing to be a friend to the child, an equal.
Of course, what kind of “friend” was up for debate.
The year after she adopted Jiang Bo, she divorced her husband. Her life after the age of 37 followed a curving path of “divorce,” “remarry,” “divorce,” and “remarry.” Every time she found her nth spring and went off to ruin someone else’s life, Jiang Bo would get a brief respite. Once her new marriage fell apart, though, his nightmare would return.
Setting aside the disgusting inappropriate relationship, Jiang Bo saw her as a sea hiding terrible undercurrents.
When things were good, she was really good—gentle, considerate, and full of affection. It seemed like she thought of everything for others, as if her whole life was devoted to you. If love could be made tangible, her love could smother someone alive.
But in the blink of an eye, she could explode in rage for no reason, turning her target into her mortal enemy. Every one of her husbands had fallen for the good version of her at the start. No one could resist her; she was a master at making people dependent on her. Then, just as suddenly, she’d tear off the mask and transform into a capricious demon.
If she had been full of allure in her younger years, she became terrifying with age.
This woman wanted control over everything and developed a terrifying, self-contained logic along the way. For example, if someone accidentally bumped into her on the street, most people would just brush it off. The more particular might get a bit annoyed, maybe glare or curse. But she wasn’t like that.
That small incident would trigger a thought process incomprehensible to normal people: “Why didn’t you walk on that wide-open part of the road? Why did you bump into me here? I’m standing right next to a busy street, and if I stumble, I could fall into traffic and maybe die. So you must be trying to kill me.”
Based on this twisted thinking, she would erupt in uncontrollable fury and hatred.
The frightening part was, there are countless small incidents and arguments in daily life, and no one knew which one she’d twist into “you’re trying to kill me.”
The evening wasn’t cold, in fact, it was humid and stifling. But Jiang Bo still pulled up the collar of his jacket. The setting sun stretched his shadow long and thin. With his hands in his pockets, he suddenly stopped and scrutinized the frail shadow beneath him.
Years later, Jiang Bo became a highly regarded and talented teacher in others’ eyes. But deep down, he knew that the timid, terrified little boy still lived inside him. He still didn’t know how to fight back. He still lacked the courage.
Jiang Bo stood by the roadside and sent a text message to Jiang Xiaoyuan: “Earl Apartments, Building B, 10th floor, Room 1002. Go to the agent across from them to get the keys, bring your ID. You can move in anytime. Once we finalize the studio location, head to the business bureau to apply for a license and finish the preliminary work quickly.”
As soon as he sent the message, Jiang Xiaoyuan called him back.
Jiang Xiaoyuan wailed: “What are you talking about, Mr. Jiang? Boss Jiang! You never told me I had to apply for a license! What’s a license anyway? I don’t even know which way the Industrial and Commercial Bureau door opens… And which bureau do I go to? The district, the city, or the province? Do I need to bring money? How much?”
Jiang Bo: “How should I know? Just run around a few places and ask. It’s fine if you go to the wrong one—they’ll tell you where to go.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was losing it: “This is so unreliable! I’m an artist, I have no clue about this stuff!”
Jiang Bo: “Oh, so you’re saying you can’t do it?”
From his experience, this line worked like a charm on Jiang Xiaoyuan every time.
Sure enough, there was silence on the other end of the phone for a while, and Jiang Xiaoyuan said: “Fine, I’ll go ask tomorrow.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” Jiang Bo crossed his arms, the smile on his face gradually fading, leaving only a trace of self-mockery under the wide brim of his hat. “Don’t call or text this number for now. I’ll contact you with a new number tomorrow. Remember?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan, sensing something, asked: “What’s going on? Is someone threatening you?”
Jiang Bo replied calmly: “My mom still doesn’t approve of my line of work. I plan to keep it from her for now. She sometimes goes through my phone.”
“Oh,” Jiang Xiaoyuan said. After a pause, she added earnestly, “Well, if she doesn’t agree, you should sit down and talk to your family again. If it doesn’t work the first time, try again. It’s all out of concern; I’m sure you can reach an understanding.”
Jiang Bo: “Stop talking nonsense. Do I need you to lecture me. Go away.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan was furious at his dog-biting Lu Dongbin[mfn]”Dog-biting Lu Dongbin” implies that someone has shown ingratitude or malice towards a person who has been generous or helpful to them, similar to a dog biting the hand that feeds it. Lu Dongbin is a legendary Taoist figure in Chinese mythology who was known for his kindness and compassion.[/mfn] behavior and hung up angrily.
“Family,” Jiang Bo repeated the word softly. Then he let out a cold laugh.
“I don’t have a ‘family,’ I have nothing,” he thought. “Give me a little more courage, little girl.”
Then he carefully deleted all the texts and call logs.
If you like our translation for this novel and want us to release more chapters frequently, feel free to support us on either our ko-fi and paypal ❤️
