After dealing with Cheng Mantou, Cheng Ying’s “bare-bones apartment” finally revealed its true face in Jiang Hanguang’s eyes.
The shoe cabinet in the entryway let out a crisp “beep” and automatically pushed out two pairs of slippers. One of them was still in its brand-new packaging.
After being startled, Jiang Hanguang saw that Cheng Ying had already changed her shoes and was pulling her suitcase into the house. She hurriedly changed her shoes as well and followed.
When the two entered, the curtains in the room were tightly closed. Following Cheng Ying’s soft command, “Open the curtains.”
The curtains covering the entire floor-to-ceiling window slid open with a swish, and the colorful, bustling lights from outside flooded in, adding a bit of life to the cold, silent room.
The bright lights inside then automatically dimmed, keeping the room’s overall brightness at a level most comfortable for the human eye.
Cheng Ying led Jiang Hanguang to the guest room, and the light by the door turned on automatically.
The guest room was also very spacious. Its style was no different from the living room’s, with only the most basic living facilities, and it was spotlessly clean.
Cheng Ying placed the suitcase to the side, turned to look at Jiang Hanguang who was still looking around, and asked, “Do you need my help unpacking?”
“No, thank you,” Jiang Hanguang shook her head. “It’s already very late. You should go get some rest.”
Cheng Ying didn’t know whether to be amused by the worried expression on her face or by the content of her words.
It wasn’t even eleven o’clock. She usually didn’t go to sleep until 2 a.m. at the earliest, which was quite in line with the sleep schedule of people in the new district.
That being said, Cheng Ying still readily complied and left. She wasn’t so shameless as to linger after being explicitly refused.
After the door closed silently, Jiang Hanguang finally had time to sort through the day’s events.
In the morning, she had been trapped in her guilt towards Cheng Ying, unable to break free. By night, she was already staying at Cheng Ying’s home.
All of this… was thanks to Cheng Ying.
Jiang Hanguang recalled Cheng Ying’s still-bruised face when she left, and a dense ache spread through her heart.
This was the second time. Both times, it was Cheng Ying.
It seemed that ever since leaving her grandmother’s side, she had never experienced making a mistake without being punished.
In a home where eating a little too slowly would earn her a slap on the palm, the only thing she learned was to try her best not to make mistakes, and to try her best not to provoke those more powerful than herself.
But these two rules she relied on for survival seemed to become less and less accurate in front of Cheng Ying.
Cheng Ying was more powerful than her, and she had angered Cheng Ying, yet Cheng Ying still saved her…
Jiang Hanguang could clearly feel that she had been a bit too presumptuous in front of Cheng Ying.
Things like holding someone’s face to apply medicine, initiating a hug, or reminding someone not to drink—these were things her former self would never have done.
Recalling the scene of her clumsily hugging Cheng Ying to comfort her, Jiang Hanguang felt a wave of heat spread from the base of her ears to her cheeks.
How could she be so… shameless.
She really didn’t want to apply the word “shameless” to herself.
Jiang Hanguang tried hard to recall what she was thinking at that moment, only to sadly discover…
Her mind had been in chaos at the time; she had simply acted subconsciously.
In the end, it was probably because Cheng Ying made her feel too safe.
So safe that the armor she had built to protect herself simply disintegrated on its own.
In front of her, it seemed like it was okay to make a small mistake.
The blushing woman took a small doll out of her suitcase.
The doll was exquisitely made. From its appearance, it was an old lady with a full head of silver hair and a kind, beaming smile.
“Grandma, Cheng Ying… she’s even better than I told you before. She’s the best person I’ve met since I came here.”
Cheng Ying took a shower, lay down in bed early, and took out her phone to quickly browse through the day’s news.
The trending topic “White Robe Canceled” shot to the top of the charts in a flash before being quickly suppressed.
This major production, with an investment of hundreds of millions, became the biggest joke of the mid-year.
Lang Wenxing and Hua Ran both remained silent, indicating that their teams had already communicated.
The popularity of “Difficult to Walk in the World” was still rising, but its momentum was much weaker than before.
Once Qin Guanyu sent over the prepared live variety show, the popularity should pick up again.
Cheng Ying turned off her phone. In the silence and darkness, the pain in her right cheek became more pronounced.
Cheng Ying was a night owl to begin with; the slightest thing could affect her sleep quality, let alone this very real pain.
After tossing and turning endlessly in bed, the various jumbled questions rolling through Cheng Ying’s mind finally settled on: “Why did I block that slap?”
It was probably because she saw Jiang Hanguang being so stupid as to not even try to dodge, just standing there stiffly, preparing to take that powerful slap head-on.
It was even more infuriating than when Jiang Hanguang had signed the contract termination letter without giving her a single word of explanation.
Can’t you dodge? Can’t you explain?
Can’t you think about yourself a little more?
What made Cheng Ying even angrier was that she could guess the answer to this question.
People always seek advantages and avoid harm. If a person goes against that instinct, it must be because, in their perception, avoiding harm would only bring about a greater disaster.
She figured that the first time Jiang Hanguang was hit, she must have tried to dodge. Then, she was surely caught by that man and beaten even more brutally, so brutally that she learned not to dodge.
And when Jiang Hanguang made a mistake for the first time, she must have tried to explain it to others. Later, she discovered that it would only be condemned as making excuses, so she stopped explaining anything.
From Jiang Hanguang’s actions, Cheng Ying caught a glimpse of the woman’s thirty years of treading on thin ice, cautious and fearful.
Such a life was probably enough to torture anyone into a meek, subservient, and mediocre person.
But Jiang Hanguang wasn’t.
A mediocre person wouldn’t have helped Xu Ning. They would only sacrifice others to satisfy themselves.
But Jiang Hanguang, in those long, hopeless days, had still maintained her kindness.
A fragile, precious, and foolish kindness.
It was hard to say whether this was fortunate or unfortunate.
After this bout of aimless, wild thoughts, Cheng Ying, surprisingly and rarely, fell asleep before one in the morning.
But it was also hard to say whether this was fortunate or unfortunate.
The strong light on the operating table blurred her vision. Cheng Ying heard the clinking of medical instruments nearby.
A white operating room, white doctors, a white world.
To ensure the accuracy of the brain pathway reading, Cheng Ying wasn’t fully anesthetized, so she could feel the instruments carefully yet wantonly probing up and down inside her brain.
She hated this, hated being tied to an operating table like livestock, at the mercy of others.
Actually, being livestock would be better; at least she could have a quick death.
Cheng Ying slowly blinked a couple of times and saw that face, familiar to the point of being etched into her bones, right before her eyes.
That person looked quite similar to her current self, only their clothes and hair were all immaculate, so clean and tidy they resembled a demon who didn’t consume earthly grains.
Those deep blue eyes were like black holes capable of annihilating everything; within them, not a trace of humanity remained.
Cheng Ying heard the woman’s voice, tinged with a smile, “This really was my mistake. I actually didn’t realize Number Zero had already grown to this extent.”
When was this?
Cheng Ying’s eyes slowly darted around as she recalled.
This happened not long after her mother died.
How did her mother die?
“You live or she lives. Pick one. I know you can arrive at the correct answer.”
Cheng Mo’s voice echoed in her ears again.
My choice? Go to hell.
Cheng Ying backhandedly grabbed the scalpel that was reaching into her brain and stabbed it towards that deep blue eye.
Blood splattered on her face. She opened her eyes and sat up.
Annoyed, she rubbed her face and asked, “What time is it?”
Cheng Mantou’s voice was uncharacteristically obedient, “Two-thirty in the morning.”
While mentally cursing Cheng Mo’s ancestors for eight hundred generations, Cheng Ying got up and went to the living room. She fished a bottle of hard liquor from the liquor cabinet, and the sound of ice cubes clinking into a glass soothed her agitated emotions.
Her hands trembled several times before she managed to twist open the bottle. The clear liquid poured into the glass and was impatiently swallowed by Cheng Ying.
A burning sensation, carrying a scorching heat, slid down her throat. The liquor she didn’t have time to swallow trickled down her chin to her neck.
The unhealed wound inside her mouth screamed in protest with sharp pain, but she paid it no mind, simply pouring herself another glass with a blank expression.
Just as she was about to pour it into her mouth, she saw the guest room door slowly open. Jiang Hanguang, dressed in plaid pajamas, walked out and happened to see her raised glass.
Cheng Ying: “…”
Jiang Hanguang: “…”
An awkward silence spread between the two. Cheng Ying silently put down her glass, for some reason feeling the helplessness of being caught doing something wrong.
Jiang Hanguang was probably scorning her for not listening to advice and having no self-control.
Then she saw Miss Jiang, whose figure could make up for any plainness in her simple attire, hesitate for a moment before slowly walking over.
The woman reached out a slender, pale hand and placed it on her forehead.
“You have insomnia too? Is it very uncomfortable?”
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