TPIL - 37

Luo Andi didn’t give up easily, continuing to press on: “I remember it was small-leafed gardenia last time. It looks like the soil has been freshly tilled—did you temporarily switch to planting yellow roses?”

Qi Xiaochuan simply clammed up, pretending not to hear.

“Right? Right? Right?” She followed him around, but he still didn’t speak.

In the end, Luo Andi picked up the cat and asked: “But where did you hire the gardener from? I wonder how skilled they are—”

Qi Xiaochuan had been drinking water but abruptly stopped, decisively replying: “The Netherlands. He studied horticulture in his home country and has been in the industry for many years. Rest assured.”

He willingly fell into her carefully laid trap, feeling a vague sense of displeasure creeping up inside. Fortunately, she showed no intention of exposing him, merely smiling meaningfully as she replied: “That’s great then.”

In the morning, Luo Andi was about to head to work and planned to hastily make do with cereal for breakfast. Just as she unscrewed the lid, she heard a male voice ask from behind: “You’re eating this?” Caught off guard, she accidentally dropped it, smashing it onto the floor.

The new housekeeper had already come to work but wouldn’t stay all day, visiting only when no one was home, like the legendary snail maiden, restocking ingredients and cleaning before leaving. Thus, Luo Andi bent down to clean up, but someone beat her to it. Qi Xiaochuan was already crouched down, gathering the ceramic shards, frowning as he warned her: “Don’t do this kind of thing.”

Luo Andi’s hand hovered mid-air, utterly perplexed as she asked: “Why?”

The words “I don’t want you to” were stuck in his throat. If Qi Xiaochuan had to choose between confessing that and throwing himself under a train, he would undoubtedly opt for the latter without hesitation. So, his response was: “Because... aren’t you a young lady?” As soon as he said it, he wanted to throw himself into the sea. Given the circumstances, this line undeniably carried a sarcastic undertone.

Thankfully, Luo Andi didn’t seem offended: “Why are you still at home today? Don’t you have work?”

Qi Xiaochuan fell silent for a moment, considering whether to bolt immediately. But ultimately, he confessed straightforwardly, as if a cannon were pointed at his forehead: “...I’m going to the detention center today.”

Zhou Hanyao Cheng’s wife hadn’t yet been arraigned and was temporarily held at the detention center. Initially, there was no opportunity to visit, but now they had finally received notification. Of course, Qi Xiaochuan hadn’t spared any effort in arranging things.

He still decided to see her. Though racking his brain, he couldn’t think of anything meaningful to talk about, but he felt they needed to chat. It was that maddening situation, like falling into a deep well, catching sight of a descending spider thread. His rational mind could clearly conclude there was no hope, yet it was impossible not to grasp it.

In the early morning, Luo Andi’s hair was casually pinned up, wearing a light yellow sun-protective jacket, her bare face looking at him. Her expression wasn’t sad, nor was it her usual smile. Precisely because of that, a subtle air of compassion arose: “I’ll accompany you.”

“What? Huh? What?” Qi Xiaochuan instinctively walked out while talking, only to violently collide with the doorframe. Clutching his shoulder, he awkwardly pretended nothing happened: “No need. I’m not a primary school student who needs escorting.”

But Luo Andi acted as if she hadn’t heard, her automatic hearing system kicking in again. She turned, grabbed her bag, took off her jacket, wore a long sundress, lightly applied lipstick, and came out: “Let’s go.”

He froze in place.

She approached, lifting her head as if to link arms with him, looking into his eyes innocently asking: “Do you really want to meet alone with the person who stabbed you but is also important to you?”

Faced with such a soul-piercing question, Qi Xiaochuan was inexplicably speechless.

She looked at him, not rushing for an answer. Suddenly, Luo Andi reached out. Before Qi Xiaochuan could evade, he felt her touch his cheek. Her palm wasn’t scorching hot, nor icy cold—just an almost imperceptible sensation. She gently touched his face, devoid of any sentiment, merely expressing warmth.

In the end, she still sat in the passenger seat.

Qi Xiaochuan secretly tried not to think of himself as a grade schooler, but Luo Andi suddenly said: “It’s fine. I occasionally wait for your driver too, aren’t I just like a primary school student?”

He was greatly shocked but forced himself to remain calm: “For insurance… You don’t have any special abilities, right?”

“Hmm? Did I hit the mark?” Luo Andi seemed surprised.

“...No,” Qi Xiaochuan emphasized, “Then what do you think I should ask her?”

There was no need to ask “Why did you stab me?” Motives and such—he already knew after so many years. If he didn’t, he should question whether he was prematurely suffering from Alzheimer’s and should stock up on more brain health supplements. As for how the crime was committed, the number of reconnaissance trips, or when it started—these were matters for the police to investigate.

He couldn’t bear her sorrow, but he also knew there was no one better suited than him to address her grief.

If Qi Xiaochuan’s emotional intelligence could pass the basic threshold, he wouldn’t be a CEO right now. Instead, he’d likely be participating in one of those talent shows designed to fool audiences, even possibly singing songs he randomly wrote in three minutes, had five or six professional musicians arrange, and then pompously claimed as self-composed pop music. The entertainment industry thrives on such people. Not to mention, his looks were indeed suitable.

He just didn’t know what to do.

Luo Andi thought for a moment, turned to him, and said: “Ask her... how she’s been these days?”

“...”

“If you don’t know what to say, pretend. Pretend your relationship is still as it was before.” Luo Andi gave him a reassuring smile, “Maybe she already knows this isn’t your fault, not anyone’s fault.”

Qi Xiaochuan hesitated slightly, his statement ending uncertainly: “This isn’t my fault?”

She merely smiled, though up close, it was easy to distinguish it from a genuine smile. People often can’t accept fate because it always goes against their wishes, leaving no room for struggle.

He didn’t know why she understood, but regarding matters of the heart, she was often right. Qi Xiaochuan felt relieved and replied: “Alright.”

When spirits lifted, so did appearances visibly improve. Zhu Peijie bid farewell to her colleagues and disembarked the subway before reaching home. Upon arriving at the handicraft shop called “Paradise,” the staff member who had received her reservation came out to greet her, leading her in and saying after registration: “Are you Miss Luo’s guest? Please wait a moment; she’ll be here shortly.”

True enough, within half a minute, the sound of unhurried footsteps echoed behind the bead curtain. Steady and light, they were instantly replaced by a smiling face. The woman emerged, greeting familiarly: “I’ve prepared the unfinished work and tools from last time. Please follow me. Shall we sit by the curtains?”

The scent of incense and soft music relaxed everyone. Before Zhu Peijie sat down, Luo Andi pulled out a booth seat for her. Feet resting on the footrest, she was slowly pushed closer to the table like riding a teacup ride at an amusement park.

“Where did we leave off last time...” Luo Andi softly said, “First, let’s melt the color powder. Grind it carefully. I’ll fetch the food coloring and the new essential oils I bought recently. We can pick them out later.”

Zhu Peijie smiled and agreed.

When she returned, Luo Andi brought a thermometer, tidied up the used materials, and showed her photos in the storage cabinet: “The soap base part we made last time is beautiful, like fruit jelly.”

“Indeed,” Zhu Peijie couldn’t help but admire, “It looks delicious.”

“So be careful not to mistake it for food once it’s done... There are no children at your home, right?” Luo Andi asked. She naturally put people at ease, making them unconsciously share secrets or grievances. She listened attentively, responded earnestly, like the best doctor for easing mental burdens, dispelling all unease and fatigue.

Zhu Peijie said: “No, my sister went to boarding school. So it’s just me now. What about Miss Luo?”

“Hmm?” Luo Andi was busy explaining, the stirring sound a bit loud, making her miss the question amidst casual chatter and appropriate course instructions. “Pay attention to the timing when mixing other colored oils later... What did you just ask?”

“Miss Luo,” Zhu Peijie thought for a moment and asked a more specific question, “Are you married?”

Luo Andi laughed: “Not yet. Why do you ask?”

“Because you look very popular...” Zhu Peijie misunderstood, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Luo Andi waved her hands repeatedly, even blushing slightly: “No way, I’m not popular at all.”

As she spoke, a junior colleague approached, first cheerfully greeting Zhu Peijie, then whispering into Luo Andi’s ear. After hearing it, Luo Andi showed no change, merely handed over the tools to the colleague, apologized, added a reminder to “add some bamboo charcoal powder,” and walked out.

She stepped outside, smiling at the unfamiliar visitor: “May I ask who you are?”

After working overtime until the world turned dark, he still had to attend an offline meeting at a hotel. Exhausted, Qi Xiaochuan stood up, his rare fatigue palpable. Even when the secretary pressed the elevator button, he only gave a cursory glance as a goodbye.

There were other people in the elevator.

He remembered Su Yining wasn’t on the attendee list today, yet he was standing inside, along with another big shot Qi Xiaochuan had spoken to over the phone in Manhattan just a few days ago.

Qi Xiaochuan walked in, not initiating any idle chat with anyone.

They left earlier than him. As they exited, Su Yining flashed him a smile, which Qi Xiaochuan found somewhat nauseating. But before he could recover, something even more nauseating happened. Su Yining quickly reported to his assistant and turned back.

Qi Xiaochuan naturally lacked patience, glaring at him with a “you’re robbing me” look.

Su Yining, however, smiled lightly: “I think it’s better to give a heads-up beforehand. The elderly gentleman you just met, who used to do natural gas business in India, I believe you’re not unfamiliar with him. But there are some things, Mr. Qi, you might not know.”

Qi Xiaochuan raised an eyebrow slightly: “Tell me.”

Su Yining smoothly continued: “First, he might not be a stranger to you. Perhaps you met him at home when you were little... though it might not necessarily be at whose house.”

The listener sneered coldly; he had grown up living with maids and drivers.

“Second,” Su Yining said, “he has no children. This time returning to the country, he’s looking for the orphan of an old friend to whom he can entrust his estate. Mr. Qi, why don’t you guess who it might be?”