Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
Qin He nodded, his gaze fixed on the stern and solemn iron gate.
Quietly waiting for Song Luo to come out.
Time passed slowly, the scorching sun baking the earth. The cigarette between Jiang Yan Zhou’s fingers had burned halfway down when the iron gate creaked open.
Accompanied by the guard’s words: “Even after you go out, you must abide by the law.”
Jiang Yan Zhou turned his attention toward the source of the voice.
Seven years had passed. The man had shed his youthful naivety, but the rebelliousness on his face remained unchanged.
It had to be said that there were indeed many similarities between Song Luo and Song Zhi.
Resilience and confidence seemed innate to them.
The man furrowed his brows, raising a hand to shield himself from the sunlight.
The clothes he wore were likely sent in advance by Song Zhi. His height and build were similar to Jiang Yan Zhou’s—broad-shouldered and long-legged.
After pondering for a moment, Jiang Yan Zhou silently buttoned up his jacket.
Rarely needing to go to the office today, he also uncommonly took off his usual formal attire.
The T-shirt underneath was a birthday gift from Song Zhi.
In previous years, she always gave him knockoff clothes and watches. Recently, Jiang Yan Zhou had been wondering why she suddenly had a change of heart...
...Turns out, she was just using him to test sizes.
Qin He approached Song Luo with a gentle smile: “Long time no see.”
Seven years wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either, enough for a person to undergo subtle changes.
Song Luo smiled and nodded: “Yeah, it has been quite a while.”
He noticed Jiang Yan Zhou standing behind Qin He and walked past him, casually draping an arm over his shoulder: “Still that same old debt-ridden face I know.”
Jiang Yan Zhou calmly removed his hand: “Let’s talk in the car.”
His temper hadn’t changed a bit.
It was too hot outside. Song Luo nodded: “Alright.”
The car was parked ahead, and it would take some time to walk over.
Qin He asked Song Luo a few simple questions: “How have these years been?”
He chuckled, his usual laid-back demeanor tinged with a hint of barely noticeable bitterness: “It was what it was.”
Could it have been great?
Seven years of youth wasted in prison, along with the ideals of his teenage years, all vanished into thin air.
When he first went in, he didn’t have any will to live.
Later, he thought of Song Zhi.
If he lived, she would at least still have a family member.
For these seven years, Song Zhi was the only reason he held on to life.
If he could relive his life,
he would still pick up the steel pipe and go after that person.
The only regret was not killing him outright.
________________________________________
Qin He patted his shoulder: “Now that you’re out, live well.”
Jiang Yan Zhou had reserved a spot at a nearby Western restaurant, but Song Luo said that after finally getting out of the cage, he wanted to see a broader sky.
It was vacation time, so there were no students at No. 1 High School.
Jiang Yan Zhou bought some beer, and they sat on the basketball court.
On the court, there were a few high school students around seventeen or eighteen, wearing their jerseys.
A three-point shot missed.
The basketball bounced off the ground, rolling over to Song Luo’s feet.
He picked it up and threw it back.
The student politely thanked him.
The sky had already darkened, and the lights on the court had come on.
At least seven years ago, they used to wear jerseys and freely sweat on this very basketball court.
Rebellious, or indifferent.
The way teenagers should be.
Jiang Yan Zhou asked him: “What are your plans for the future?”
“Start over, I guess.”
His first choice had always been National University of Defense Technology, but the incident before the college entrance exam left a permanent stain on his record.
He would never pass the political review.
He could only place his hopes on the next life.
Song Luo asked Jiang Yan Zhou: “And you?”
Jiang Yan Zhou knew what he was referring to. He slightly leaned his body, resting his arm on the backseat, looking somewhat lazy and casual.
His fair fingertips lightly traced circles around the soda can: “You know, I don’t have dreams.”
The reason Song Luo hit it off with Jiang Yan Zhou at first sight was because of the indifference he exuded towards everything.
He seemed to have no desires, possessing everything, thus lacking nothing.
Even the most incompetent person has a dream.
Like becoming fabulously wealthy overnight.
But Jiang Yan Zhou had nothing.
He was like an isolated island, disconnected from the outside world, forever unable to reach shore.
Song Luo actually admired such people.
He teased: “You haven’t even dated anyone, have you?”
Jiang Yan Zhou glanced at him: “I have.”
Never thought even an iron tree could bloom.
Song Luo became interested: “What’s her name? Let’s see if I know her.”
Qin He’s expression subtly changed.
Jiang Yan Zhou paused for a moment: “Song Zhi.”
Song Luo laughed: “That name sounds familiar. Could it be someone we used to know...”
Before he could finish the word “classmate,” the smile on his face froze completely, “...Don’t tell me it’s my sister?”
Jiang Yan Zhou looked at him, saying nothing.
It seemed like an affirmation.
Silence reigned for a few seconds.
“Fuck.” Song Luo’s anger flared as he lunged forward and punched him. “Jiang Yan Zhou, you fucking bastard, how could you lay your hands on your friend’s sister? If I had known this earlier, I would’ve broken out of jail and killed you myself!”
Jiang Yan Zhou didn’t dodge. Song Luo’s punch landed squarely on his left cheek, leaving a metallic taste instantly spreading in his mouth.
Qin He quickly intervened, pulling the two apart: “Song Luo, calm down.”
“Calm down my ass, let go. If you don’t, I’ll beat you up too!”
He was truly furious. From the day he went in, the person he worried about the most was Song Zhi.
That girl was the epitome of princess syndrome. Before, her family spoiled her, and whenever she got into trouble, he was there to clean up her mess.
But one day, she suddenly found herself alone.
Worried she might be scared, Song Luo specifically asked Jiang Yan Zhou to look after his delicate younger sister if he had time.
Song Luo sneered: “You did a fine job. Lusting after her and taking care of her right into bed, huh?”
Jiang Yan Zhou wiped the blood from his lips, his fingertips stained red.
Seemingly dissatisfied with the phrase “lusting after her,” he slightly frowned: “I’ve always liked her.”
After saying that, he suddenly thought of something and chuckled self-deprecatingly.
His words gradually calmed Song Luo down.
As a friend, Jiang Yan Zhou’s nature was something he understood well.
He rarely lied.
Song Luo let go, taking a step back, moving away from Qin He.
They both spent their days under his watchful eye, and he hadn’t noticed any signs of Jiang Yan Zhou and Song Zhi being involved.
That’s why he confidently entrusted Song Zhi to Jiang Yan Zhou before going in.
He even told him to keep an eye on Qin He, making sure he didn’t steal his little sister away.
Who would’ve thought, despite all precautions, Song Luo personally handed his sister over to the tiger.
But now that things had happened, there was no changing it.
He suppressed his anger, trying to stay calm while asking Jiang Yan Zhou: “You waited until she was of age before... doing it, right?”
Jiang Yan Zhou lit a cigarette at some point, lowering his eyelashes: “She was twenty.”
The fire that had just been extinguished reignited: “You better shut up. I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist punching you again.”
Qin He watched the two, his smile tinged with helplessness:
“After all these years apart, let’s talk about something else.”
Song Luo nodded. Focusing on this topic wasn’t good; they should indeed talk about other things.
He asked Jiang Yan Zhou: “So, are you two still together?”
Qin He: “...”
What kind of “other topic” was this?
Jiang Yan Zhou’s movements paused, his eyes visibly dimming: “She doesn’t want me anymore.”
Song Luo burst into laughter: “Then you deserve it, you damn bastard.”
Jiang Yan Zhou fell silent for a moment, picking up the alcohol as he stood up.
Song Luo complained: “Where am I supposed to drink if you take the booze away?”
Without turning around, his tone cold: “Buy it yourself.”
Hmph, quite petty.
________________________________________
The house was settled a few days ago. Song Zhi bought some new furniture and had someone clean it up. Today, it was ready to move in.
She hadn’t seen Song Luo for too long, having visited him in prison just a month ago.
But this was the first time in seven years she could meet him without the protective glass separating them.
As a result, she was somewhat distracted during filming.
Director Luo criticized her several times.
During the break, Xiao Xu came over with a tablet, showing messages from Xia Wanyue.
About the variety shows she would take after wrapping up her new movie.
Artists needed to maintain their popularity, and variety shows were the fastest way to gain fans.
Thus, in Song Zhi’s future plans, variety shows were Xia Wanyue’s top consideration.
[Xia Wanyue: One is a talent show, the other is a dating show. Considering your schedule, the production team has agreed to stagger the timings.]
Song Zhi stared blankly.
[Song Zhi: Why would I go on a perfectly fine talent show? To be a pretty face?]
[Song Zhi: And that dating show? Just for dating?]
Xia Wanyue’s message came quickly, seemingly anticipating Song Zhi’s response and preparing her argument in advance.
[Xia Wanyue: These two shows were specifically evaluated by the company, and they’re guaranteed to blow up. There’s a long queue of artists eyeing this opportunity. If you decline, someone else will snatch it immediately.]
[Xia Wanyue: Don’t you have any ambition or pride? If you take on these two shows, I guarantee that by the time your movie premieres, you’ll rise straight to the A-list.]
[Xia Wanyue: If you miss this chance, the next one might be years away.]
Song Zhi certainly had ambitions, and they weren’t small.
The more arrogant and self-assured a person was, the less willing they were to admit defeat.
Having chosen this path, she wouldn’t easily turn back.
After hesitating for a few seconds, her fair fingertips lightly touched the screen, typing out a few words and sending them.
[Song Zhi: Fine, I’ll take them.]
Xia Wanyue had been specifically waiting for this reply.
[Xia Wanyue: OK, I’ll inform the production team. Contract signing tomorrow afternoon.]
[Xia Wanyue: By the way, I forgot to mention earlier—the male lead for the dating show is He Hanyang :P]
Seeing the tongue-out emoji at the end of that sentence, Song Zhi’s heart sank.
Perhaps she didn’t forget—she deliberately didn’t mention it.
[Song Zhi: Dating show? With He Hanyang? Are you crazy, or am I?]
[Xia Wanyue: Dating shows are really popular now. After the show ends, the CP fans will convert to the female lead’s fanbase. He Hanyang doesn’t mind, so why do you?]
[Song Zhi: Of course I mind. We had that scandal before, remember? The whole “three-day battle” thing. If I join this show now, it’ll confirm our relationship.]
[Xia Wanyue: That’s already been clarified. Now those netizens think you’re just good friends. This ambiguous state is perfect for shipping. The platform specifically targeted your CP’s popularity. They promised me that if you join, they’ll promote you heavily. Both their original dramas and variety shows will prioritize you.]
Looking at those tempting conditions, Song Zhi fell silent for a moment.
[Song Zhi: Let me think about it some more.]
Xia Wanyue didn’t give her much time—just two days.
Finally, after finishing work, Song Zhi felt physically and mentally exhausted.
She fell asleep as soon as she got in the car.
She had informed the driver of the new address beforehand.
Closer than Xia Wanyue’s place by half an hour, she hadn’t slept long before being woken up.
Xiao Xu, fearing she’d catch a chill, covered her with a blanket after she fell asleep.
As Song Zhi sat up, the blanket slipped to the floor.
She bent down to pick it up, glancing at the scenery outside the window: “Are we here?”
Xiao Xu nodded: “Yes.”
Song Zhi yawned: “Then I’ll head in first. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Sister Song Zhi.”
After getting out of the car, Song Zhi put on her mask and entered the elevator.
This was a high-end residential area, different from Xia Wanyue’s old neighborhood—quiet with excellent security measures.
Song Zhi entered the password to unlock the door, leaning against the wall with one hand while taking off her shoes with the other, calling out: “Brother Qin He.”
She had called Qin He earlier. He said he had already picked up Song Luo and was at home now.
The keys were given to him in advance by Song Zhi.
There was no sound inside.
Just as Song Zhi was puzzled, she raised her head to speak when a lanky figure leaned against the wall, grinning at her.
His squinty eyes and familiar big white teeth: “Our little dwarf grew taller, huh?”
Song Zhi was momentarily stunned, then threw the high heels she had just taken off and excitedly leapt onto him, hugging tightly: “Song Luo! Ahhhhhhhhh!!”
Song Luo stumbled backward several steps from the sudden impact, holding her waist to prevent her from falling, but his mouth was full of disdain: “Didn’t you just take off your shoes? Aren’t your hands dirty?”
Song Zhi slid down from him: “How dare you call a fairy dirty. So vulgar.”
Song Luo scrutinized her from head to toe, frowning: “Did you really get into university? I don’t sense any scholarly aura from you.”
Song Zhi automatically ignored his question.
After all, she had deferred enrollment and nearly been expelled. If it weren’t for Jiang Yan Zhou smoothing things over, she probably wouldn’t have graduated.
She changed the topic: “I’m starving. Is there anything to eat?”
He nodded: “It should be ready soon.”
Entering the living room, Qin He was setting up the tableware. Song Zhi smelled the aroma of food and didn’t hold back her praise: “Brother Qin He’s cooking skills are still amazing.”
Qin He cast a meaningful glance toward the kitchen: “Today’s chef isn’t me.”
Confused, Song Zhi was about to ask who it was.
Jiang Yan Zhou emerged with dishes, wearing an apron around his waist.
Seeing Song Zhi, the corner of his lips curved upward: “It’s almost ready.”
His voice, rare and tender.
Never expecting him to appear here, Song Zhi coldly said: “Forget it, I’m not hungry. You guys eat.”
With that, she went upstairs.
Seeing this scene, Song Luo was rather curious. He asked Jiang Yan Zhou: “Are you sure you two were in a relationship, not fighting?”
Jiang Yan Zhou stared at Song Zhi’s retreating figure, remaining silent.
Song Luo gleefully reminded him: “Song Zhi holds grudges. Once, I accidentally broke the bow on her sandals, and she didn’t speak to me for three months.”
Clearly, Jiang Yan Zhou didn’t want to deal with him.
All the dishes were served, and Jiang Yan Zhou even specially stewed Song Zhi’s favorite corn and pork rib soup.
He didn’t have much appetite, barely touching his chopsticks, his gaze continuously fixed on the staircase.
Song Luo reassured him: “Don’t worry. In less than ten minutes, she’ll definitely come down.”
Not even ten minutes passed. Ten seconds after he spoke, Song Zhi couldn’t resist her hunger and came down.
Jiang Yan Zhou dutifully served her a bowl of soup: “I specially stewed this for you.”
Song Zhi politely thanked him, then pushed the bowl aside.
Lowering her head to eat.
In Song Luo’s memory, Jiang Yan Zhou wasn’t an emotionally expressive person. People with high IQs often lacked emotional intelligence.
He didn’t know how to flatter or cater to others.
But then again, with his status, he didn’t need to please anyone.
At least during the years Song Luo knew him, he had never seen Jiang Yan Zhou soothing anyone with gentle words.
But now, the carefulness in his eyes and occasional hints of disappointment stemmed entirely from Song Zhi’s words and actions.
Unobtrusively, Jiang Yan Zhou placed her favorite dishes in front of her.
Knowing her narrow throat made eating prone to choking, he even prepared a glass of warm water beside her.
Unfortunately, Song Zhi didn’t touch the water, but drank plenty of alcohol.
Two whole boxes of alcohol, she and Song Luo polished off most of it.
No wonder they were siblings—they were alike in some ways, knowing no restraint.
Song Luo’s tolerance wasn’t as high as Song Zhi’s. After one round, he collapsed and was helped back to his room by Qin He to rest.
Song Zhi still held a bottle, pouring its contents into her glass, muttering while pouring: “How is there not a single drop left?”
The warm water he poured earlier had cooled. Jiang Yan Zhou went to replace it: “Drinking some water will make you feel better.”
Song Zhi squinted at him: “Who are you?”
She was drunk, her speech slurred.
Jiang Yan Zhou just looked at her—from her intoxicated eyes, to her perky nose, and her cherry lips moistened by alcohol.
He had known since childhood that he wasn’t liked.
Even his own mother, who bore him, said she felt nauseous just looking at him.
She was a woman of refinement, yet treated him like a stranger.
Jiang Yan Zhou once didn’t understand, but later he got used to it.
After his parents’ divorce, he was brought back to B City, to his mother’s maiden family.
Back then, he wasn’t much older, watching his mother, who was perpetually melancholic from the divorce.
He had always been by her side.
Until later, the mother who was gentle and virtuous to outsiders began to speak coldly to him: “You’re just like your father. You share the same blood. You’re unworthy of being liked, and you shouldn’t expect anyone to like you. You’re naturally meant to be despised.”
He felt as though all his blood had frozen, his hands and feet icy.
He had never felt this way before, as if his heart was being torn apart: “Do you hate me that much?”
“Yes, seeing you reminds me of your father. You can’t understand my feelings. You’ll never understand how much I hate you.”
Later, Jiang Yan Zhou was brought back to Beicheng and transferred to No. 1 High School.
He didn’t talk much, was taciturn, and showed no interest in anything.
Until one day, while smoking in the shadows, he saw a girl enter his line of sight.
Her smile bright, confident, and cheerful.
He looked at her legs, suddenly curious—would she feel cold wearing so little?
________________________________________
Song Zhi felt nauseous, clutching her chest and dry-heaving a few times. Jiang Yan Zhou held the glass of water to her lips, softly coaxing her to drink.
With great effort, Song Zhi lifted her gaze and smiled at him: “You’re quite handsome. Want to be my kept man?”
He set the empty glass back on the table, pausing slightly at her words.
“Sure.”
Song Zhi waved her hand: “Never mind. Someone as good-looking as you must be expensive. I probably can’t afford to keep you.”
Jiang Yan Zhou’s eyelashes quivered slightly, and he said: “I eat very little. You can feed me a bit of vegetables and water every day, or maybe not even that—I can take care of myself.”
Google Sites
Report abuse