TPIL - 47

Qi Xiaochuan frowned deeply, his displeasure evident as he retorted: “What do you mean, ‘do it’? Did you suddenly lose your mind and decide to do something reckless? Luo Andi, if you’re going to sleep here, at least behave—” He had clearly understood her meaning but was indulging in his usual sarcasm. However, out of an uncharacteristic consideration for her feelings, he swallowed the rest of his sentence: “…don’t push your luck.”

If there was anyone who could adapt to his cutting demeanor, Luo Andi ranked second to none—even Qi Xiaochuan’s secretary wouldn’t dare claim first place. She wasn’t upset at all; instead, she giggled softly.

He thought that would be the end of it and finally prepared to get out of bed for another trip to the bathroom, planning to spend the night in a different room.

But she sat up, turned on the light, and said casually, “Little Xiao, you’ve never had a girlfriend, right?”

“That doesn’t mean I have any obligation,” he snapped, his expression dark, as though he were about to step into an armory rather than the hallway. “This isn’t a handicrafts classroom.”

Luo Andi smiled, her curls cascading over her shoulders like seaweed. She often gave the impression of being carefree, but that was merely a gem-studded golden cloak shimmering under the harsh light of the world.

Unlike those easily deceived fools, Qi Xiaochuan had never fully believed in her innocence from the start. He had observed her with the narrowest of perspectives and pressed her with the most malicious assumptions. When he interrogated her, his conscience remained untouched. Even so, she wasn’t hurt and calmly replied, “Maybe, but do you like me?”

She was the most incomprehensible girl—and woman—he had ever met. Luo Andi appeared fragile, but only superficially. Whether it was her seemingly white knight syndrome or her excessive enthusiasm toward him, Qi Xiaochuan had never felt such awe for anyone. It grew so intense that it occasionally turned into fear.

Qi Xiaochuan prided himself on his indifference, which allowed him to live a more ideal, minimalist life. She was entirely different from him. Luo Andi was like someone drenched in honey, attracting countless parasites after a leisurely stroll.

He should have stayed away from her.

Qi Xiaochuan felt as though he had contracted some kind of mental virus.

Luo Andi chuckled and replied, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to do it.”

He stared at her intently, not entirely sure, and tentatively asked, “Did you drink alcohol?”

“No,” she laughed.

“Then did you make a bet with someone?”

She shook her head again. “No.”

Finally, he asked, “Are you feeling upset?”

Luo Andi’s gaze followed him closely, her smile relaxed and confident.

Qi Xiaochuan turned around expressionlessly, taking slow steps closer. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her with an almost disdainful tone: “You really are insufferable.”

Others took advantage of her gentleness, and she took advantage of his. Undeniably, human relationships often boiled down to exploitation and being exploited.

She was well-prepared for his kiss, tilting her face slightly to meet him. Her hands moved naturally behind his back, but the moment she tried to pull him closer, he grabbed her wrists. Qi Xiaochuan held them firmly, looming over her. Yet, Luo Andi remained calm enough to evoke resentment.

It was hard to judge who was best suited for this situation, but those skilled in serving others with devotion would ultimately emerge victorious.

In the end, it was Luo Andi who felt awkward. Her senses were overwhelmed, blushing with embarrassment, yet he still cared only about whether she was satisfied. She wanted to say it was enough but, burdened by her overflowing sympathy, couldn’t possibly kick him aside after her own satisfaction. Still, she hadn’t anticipated that this moment of consent would be the prelude to regret. Only then did Qi Xiaochuan pick up his knife and fork to begin the feast, followed by an over-the-top torment.

When she went to shower, she refused his help, insisting on going in alone. He didn’t have the audacity to insist further, so he changed the bedsheets first, then stood by the door with a towel, waiting.

“Why are you feeling upset?” Qi Xiaochuan unusually initiated the conversation, perhaps influenced by the aftereffects of breaking a taboo. His tone betrayed no hint of shame. But then again, if he were truly moved, he might as well climb a mountain and burn incense.

Luo Andi was slowly rinsing herself while leaning against the bathroom door, unable to hear his muffled concern clearly: “What?”

He leaned against the wall, lowering his voice as he exhaled: “So someone really did bully you, huh?”

She had already opened the door, completely unfazed, and took the towel from him, drying off before putting on fresh clothes. He turned away, cleared his throat, and announced he’d go pour a glass of water. By the time he returned to the room, she was already lying down.

Luo Andi lay nestled in the soft bedding, contentedly closing her eyes. If possible, Qi Xiaochuan wished he could transform everything around her into this state, doing anything to keep her perpetually happy.

Realizing how sentimental this thought was, he briefly lamented his own weakness. Not remembering how many times he’d asked this question, Qi Xiaochuan said, “Ahem, has anyone bullied you?”

She lay there, her lips moving faintly as if in a dream. “Mm.”

Rather than thinking, “Of course,” his first instinct was to search online for “how to make someone disappear.” Reaching out to touch her cheek while her eyes were closed, even such a simple gesture stopped midway. Luo Andi said, “You.”

She continued, “You’ve been bullying me all along.”

He remained overly calm, like a convict who had long anticipated the verdict, and asked matter-of-factly, “Then what will it take for you to forgive me?”

“It’s fine,” Luo Andi replied in her characteristic style, opening her eyes lazily and smiling at him. “I’m telling you because I can only hold you accountable. Other people don’t care. So, in the end, I’m also bullying you.”

“I know,” Qi Xiaochuan admitted honestly.

He simply didn’t mind.

They didn’t consider her feelings. Among those she helped, almost everyone was initially surprised, but over time, most grew accustomed. That was human nature—self-respecting and highly adaptable. She treated others kindly, but toward him, it was feigned kindness. Perhaps her true nature wasn’t as radiant as her admirers hoped. On the contrary, she was petty, jealous, cunning, and like all ordinary people, would resort to any means necessary to secure and confirm her favor.

He felt uneasy about uncovering her true face but couldn’t stop or reverse it.

Luo Andi wasn’t as physically strong as him and was already tired by now. Finally, she asked, “To even things out, is there anything you want to do? If possible, I’ll help you.”

Qi Xiaochuan pondered for a moment before answering, “Do it again?”

In the morning, Luo Andi called in sick to her boss, an unusual move for someone known for perfect attendance. Even more peculiar was the other side of the story: Qi Xiaochuan, who was supposed to be at the airport on a business trip, had ordered shark fin捞饭 to be delivered to Paradise Handicrafts with a note thanking them for their lessons. However, Luo Andi, who was primarily responsible for him, wasn’t there. The gesture seemed unnecessarily conspicuous, almost covering up something.

Though Qi Xiaochuan’s behavior was indeed evasive and ambiguous, his compensation was far-sighted. On this day when Luo Andi was absent, the store experienced more mishaps than usual. His reluctance to reveal his attitude stemmed from necessity—it wasn’t feasible to appear openly and apologize with, “I made your new store manager unable to leave the bed or put on pants.” Though, if it were him, he might have added, “She invited me first,” not to shift blame but simply to irritate, being overly meticulous where it wasn’t needed.

Whether it was dining, attending exhibitions, or the simplest meetings, Luo Andi had repeatedly declined Qu Guozhong many times. It was hard to imagine how a fallen celestial being might react when offended. Perhaps due to this, Qu Guozhong hadn’t resorted to unconventional methods. His intentions toward her and her family remained questionable, though the most likely motive was to avoid tarnishing his reputation.

Qi Xiaochuan settled into the private bar of his hotel, the brightest spot in the entire building. He drank lemon juice, sitting by the window. First, he pulled up a tutorial on his phone, then retrieved yarn and knitting tools from his bag to start weaving.

Circles, knit stitches, purl stitches—his hollow needlework was deft.

He remained intensely focused, aware that someone had taken a seat across from him but paid no mind. It wasn’t until Qu Guozhong spoke that Qi Xiaochuan realized it was him.

“Mr. Qi has quite unique hobbies.” After the debacle earlier, Qu Guozhong shouldn’t have had a favorable impression of him.

Qi Xiaochuan had gone to great lengths to smooth over the mess that day, spending both time and money. If it weren’t for Luo Andi, he wouldn’t have bothered. He didn’t respond.

“Hmm…” Qu Guozhong stroked his chin pensively. “I’ve also been considering joining Paradise Handicrafts as a member.”

Finally, he spoke, but it didn’t sound like an invitation to join a knitting enthusiasts’ alliance. Though Qi Xiaochuan didn’t consider himself obsessed either: “Do you have something to say?”

Qu Guozhong scrutinized Qi Xiaochuan for a while, then deepened his smile, as if concluding it wasn’t worth beating around the bush. He cut straight to the chase: “I want to meet Miss Luo and have a proper conversation. But it seems she’s unwilling. Could Mr. Qi help mediate and persuade her?”

“In the future, I, Qu Guozhong, will certainly extend more favors in business dealings.”

In the trade market, where money could move mountains, this was indeed an enticing proposition. Out of professional courtesy and respect for elders, Qi Xiaochuan refrained from bluntly saying, “Dream on,” and instead replied politely, “You can fly back to India now. There’s a nine-and-a-half-hour time difference between New Delhi and Washington. You can sleep on the flight and nap again after landing.”

Qu Guozhong clearly hadn’t expected such sharp words from the young man. His expression darkened, but he didn’t erupt in anger, merely signaling to his assistant nearby.

A photograph appeared on the glass coffee table.

Qi Xiaochuan internally scoffed, wondering if Qu Guozhong would throw out a scandalous private photo in frustration. To everyone’s surprise, it was a harmless snapshot—a young boy sitting in a stroller, gazing into the unknown.

What was this? Luo Andi’s illegitimate child?

The timeline didn’t match.

Qi Xiaochuan, skeptical, was about to glare at the man. But in an instant, he seemed to realize something.

The boy’s features grew increasingly familiar, resembling a face he didn’t want to associate with. That face stared back at him every morning in the mirror as he shaved.

Naturally suspicious, his first cautious question was, “Who is this?”

Qu Guozhong sighed and countered, “I heard Mr. Qi was abducted as a child and endured a tragic past. I once doubted such misfortune could exist. But today confirms it’s true. Mr. Qi, do you really not recognize yourself?”

“Is this… photoshopped?” Qi Xiaochuan flipped the photo, feigning impatience. “Who did you hire to forge this?”

After being abducted, he had disappeared for years, his memories hazy, losing both his hometown and family, erasing even his early childhood.

“Of course not. You can take it to an expert for verification. They’ll tell you the same thing—it’s real, Qi Xiaochuan. Your photo.” Qu Guozhong’s expression was solemn, yet he had subtly seized control. “Or perhaps it’s better to call you by your real name?”

He was someone who didn’t even know his own name. The name given to him by his parents had long faded from memory. Qi Xiaochuan only felt truly provoked now. He masked his anger, pretending to remain calm: “I’m not falling for this. My biological parents—I’ve already hired professionals to dig deep. They failed. Are you seriously trying to fool me with actors from a film studio? Isn’t that too disrespectful?”

However, contrary to his expectations, Qu Guozhong only grew more confident: “I can only tell you that what you couldn’t achieve, I can. At the very least, this photo is proof.”

“…”

“Don’t you want to meet your parents?” The aged voice coaxed gently. “As long as you convince Luo Andi to speak with me, all of this can become reality.”