Chapter Thirty-Six: Sugary Sweet—I Like Him.

She was bundled up in thick layers, the white cashmere coat making her look adorably round. Her long hair was twisted into a little bun, her eyes bright and clear, her expression terribly serious. Jiang Chen lowered his gaze to her, his voice soft as he replied, “No.”

Raindrops began to fall, gentle and light. At last, a smile appeared on her face, and her voice softened, “That’s good.”

When the police arrived, Ye Mian recounted everything in detail. Unfortunately, the perpetrator had already fled, and since no harm was done, the police could do little. They simply advised, “If anything happens in the future, call us immediately,” before leaving.

The November air was biting cold. Ye Mian tightened her coat around herself and watched the police car disappear into the night. As it drove away, most of the onlookers dispersed as well.

When she turned back, she saw Jiang Chen sitting on the steps. The light rain settled on his tousled hair; the harshness that usually clung to him seemed to have faded, leaving only a gentle warmth that was impossible to ignore. Even though he had done nothing, it felt as though he drew all the light around him.

Ye Mian found herself momentarily distracted. The timing was hardly appropriate, but in that instant, she thought Jiang Chen looked genuinely gentle—and heartbreakingly handsome. The kind of handsome that made one's heart race.

As she was lost in thought, Jiang Chen pushed himself up from the stone steps and approached her, closing the distance between them. He was so close that Ye Mian could catch the faint scent on him—the freshness of his laundry soap, mingled with something softer.

He stared at her, unblinking. His eyes carried a subtle shade of ash gray.

Ye Mian’s cheeks flushed. She lowered her voice, a little embarrassed, “Is something wrong?”

Jiang Chen replied, “Thank you.”

Ye Mian blinked, then smiled, “It’s nothing.”

He didn’t look away, only shifted his gaze slightly past her shoulder, repeating earnestly, “Truly, thank you.”

She didn’t understand why he had to say it twice, but she smiled again, “You’re welcome.”

The rain began to fall harder, thunder rumbling in the distance. Dusk had settled in. Jiang Chen produced an umbrella and handed it to her, a gentle smile on his lips, “Go home.”

Ye Mian took the umbrella, biting her lip. She hesitated, then asked, “Are you really alright? Do you need money?”

Uncle Hu had said his tuition savings were taken. How was he supposed to get by?

Seeing her worried expression, Jiang Chen was taken aback for a moment. He reached up and touched his temple, countering, “Ye Mian, what do you think I am?”

Ye Mian paused, then replied solemnly, “A good person.”

Jiang Chen couldn’t help but laugh, a hint of helplessness in his tone. “Is that so? What kind of good person gets handed money every day?”

“When they meet another good person, it happens,” Ye Mian said, pointing to her own face.

“You’re a fool,” he said, tapping her lightly on the forehead, his voice warm but earnest. “I can take care of myself. Save your money for things you like, alright?”

She had to admit, when his cool, gentle fingertip brushed her forehead, her heart skipped wildly, a feeling she’d never known settling at the tip of her heart—especially that last, lingering “alright?” It was almost too pleasant to bear.

Ye Mian found her breath coming unevenly, so she simply held it, gazing up at him.

What was this feeling?

It was subtle, strange.

After a moment, afraid her thoughts would betray her, she nodded obediently, opened the umbrella under Jiang Chen’s gaze, and left.

All the way home, her heart kept up its wild celebration. No one could resist a Jiang Chen like that. The woody, gentle scent clung to her senses, impossible to escape. Just thinking about him made her cheeks burn.

When Ye Mian got home, she took a hot shower, changed into a loose yellow nightgown, and curled up on the sofa. She tried not to dwell on what had happened today, hoping for a peaceful night’s sleep. She even opened a fresh face mask.

While the mask was on, she picked up a book that lay nearby. She’d just started it last time—a book with pink pages discussing human biology.

The last chapter was about dreams; the next was about scent.

The stories between the lines were captivating, and Ye Mian read with full attention. At the end, the book said:

“In fact, there is a physiological phenomenon: when you like someone, you can detect a certain scent on them.”

“It’s very special—there’s even a biological term for it: pheromones.”

“That is to say, the pheromones secreted by the one you love just happen to trigger a subtle response in your sense of smell—they work on you.”

“If you can smell the other’s pheromones, it means your genes are compatible, that you’ve chosen him. Perhaps this is what we call the scent of affection.”

Ye Mian’s gaze lingered on the final paragraph. She peeled off her mask and tossed it in the trash, then drifted into a daze.

Her thoughts wandered, and she suddenly recalled the scent that clung to Jiang Chen. It was a wondrous thing.

He’d said he never wore cologne, and yet she could always detect that gentle, subtle fragrance on him.

The words from the book echoed in her mind, leaving her stunned for a long time. She hugged a plush toy tightly and rolled into the corner of the sofa, her breathing uneven.

Unwittingly, she kept thinking of Jiang Chen’s gentle eyes, his cool voice, and the hand he’d reached out to her at her most helpless moment. She thought of her own pounding heart and the blush that always stained her cheeks when they met.

One by one, these images became her most secret thoughts.

She’d always had an inkling, but now it was clear—she truly liked someone.

And that person bore a beautiful name.

Jiang Chen.

Realizing this, Ye Mian’s ears burned, heat rising through her whole body. She patted her cheeks in dismay.

That was Jiang Chen! The future legend!

How could she be so… shameless! Reckless! Bold beyond belief!

—

That night, her emotions in turmoil, Ye Mian dreamed again.

She dreamed of Jiang Chen—Jiang Chen as he would be in his future success.

Her view was from above. She saw him standing below her apartment complex.

He stepped out of a black Rolls-Royce, tall and slender, dressed in a perfectly tailored, expensive suit; every gesture exuded a natural air of nobility.

Snow was swirling in the air, landing on the trees, the ground, and the edge of his glasses.

He stood in the snow, unmoving.

The scene was so familiar that Ye Mian wanted to scream. It was the very place where she would one day live.

Jiang Chen stood in the cold, his gaze gentle, waiting for most of the night before getting back into his car and leaving.

Watching his broad back, Ye Mian wanted to call out to him. But just as she opened her mouth, the vision went dark.

Her eyes snapped open.

Bright morning light slipped through her eyelids and into her eyes.

She lay there, stunned for several seconds before her thoughts drifted back to reality.

She buried her face in her pillow, sinking into another round of self-reflection.

She had only just realized her own feelings, and already she was dreaming of him waiting in a luxury car outside her building?

She could only berate herself—Ye Mian, you really do have quite the imagination.

She rolled over, covering her face in frustration.

But then, it’s not like dreaming is a crime!

Oh, oh, oh.

The Jiang Chen in her dream was truly wonderful.

A rosy smile curled at the corners of her mouth.

…