Caught red-handed

Jiang Chen stood there, his gaze ambiguous, as if watching the flowing scenery ahead, yet his peripheral vision seemed to linger on her. Ye Mian paused for two seconds, then turned and got into the car, smiling so broadly that her eyes curved in delight where he couldn’t see her.

She took out her phone, tapped on Jiang Chen’s profile picture, and sent him a message.

[Good Sleep: Bye! If you have time, we could go for tea together.]
[Good Sleep: Yesterday… thank you so much.]

Thinking of Jiang Chen’s promise to meet again, Ye Mian couldn’t hide her smile. Her happiness was so obvious that she unconsciously hummed a little tune. Ye Haisheng, hands on the steering wheel, glanced at his daughter’s expression and couldn’t help but ask, “Did you find money?”

Ever since Ye Mian came of age, the dynamic between father and daughter had changed. Though Ye Haisheng wasn’t always around, he was undoubtedly a good father, striking just the right balance between respect and a friendly, paternal presence.

Ye Mian was used to this shift. She nodded, “More or less.”

Catching the attention of a powerful figure—wasn’t that like finding a fortune?

——

Jiang Chen lifted his cup, tilting his head slightly to drink, but his eyes remained lowered, staring intently at the two new messages on his phone, a faint smile at the corners of his lips.

It was as if the mountain breeze beside him swept in, carrying the morning dew from the spring and the scent of the forest, filling the half-closed room.

He replied with a simple, “You’re welcome,” just as a knock sounded at the door.

Jiang Chen exited WeChat and looked up. “Come in.”

A man dressed in black entered. “Boss, I brought the hotel equity contract.”

“Mm.” Jiang Chen’s smile faded, the string of prayer beads once again twined around his fingertips, his voice calm and devoid of warmth: “Leave it there.”

——

Part of the bridge on the hillside had collapsed, but it didn’t affect the overall structure. Staff repeatedly inspected it and confirmed traffic could pass.

So the cars queued up, crossing slowly along the edge.

At first, Ye Mian was nervous as she crossed, but relaxed once she made it safely.

After returning home, Ye Mian sat on the sofa. She hadn’t rested for long when her cousin, Ye Qingqing, arrived, saying she was bored at home and came to chat.

Ye Haisheng, as her uncle, naturally welcomed her.

Ye Mian had no objections either; idle time was idle time. After their last meal together, she found her cousin’s personality rather agreeable—slightly childish, but pleasant in manner and conversation.

It was sweltering outside, making outings difficult. Ye Mian poured Ye Qingqing a glass of orange juice, and the two nestled together in the room to watch a movie.

The film was a well-reviewed coming-of-age romance, a low-budget production with a poignant storyline.

It told the tale of a rebellious, confused teenage girl who met and fell in love with a delinquent. At the outset, the boy’s roguish charm held immense allure for the solitary girl, prompting her to secretly pursue him. They fell in love, only to face severe bullying at school.

The girl was bullied until she lost her hearing.

The delinquent killed someone for her.

One was left disabled, the other imprisoned.

The girl thought she could wait for him to be released, but ultimately succumbed to parental pressure and the struggles of reality, choosing marriage and motherhood.

When the boy was released and saw that she had a child, he decided not to intrude, bought a ticket and left his hometown to make a living, only to offend someone and die in a foreign land.

A tragic ending.

The entire film, with its dim filter and gentle, sorrowful soundtrack, rendered their parting achingly sad, easily bringing tears to the audience.

Ye Mian had seen it in her previous life; watching it again, it didn’t move her much.

But Ye Qingqing cried uncontrollably.

Ye Mian could only hand her tissues and comfort her, “Things like this don’t really happen in real life. Don’t cry.”

The warm summer wind drifted in through the window, brushing their hair. Ye Qingqing wiped her tears, “I just feel so sorry for them, both of them. The world never gave them a chance. Is everyone who falls in love this pitiful? Maybe it’s better not to love at all.”

Ye Mian looked at her, amused and helpless.

Ye Qingqing continued, “But all the friends I’ve met are wonderful, and my parents treat me well too. Since I’m so happy, love doesn’t really matter much.”

Ye Mian gazed into Ye Qingqing’s pure eyes, suddenly touched.

Sometimes, one must admit, some people are so fortunate they hardly need love at all.

This summer day was particularly suited for romance.

Ye Qingqing, as if addicted, watched several more films with tragic endings. Though she claimed she didn’t want to fall in love, she was still moved by the cinematic romances, crying herself hoarse, insisting Ye Mian join her in tears.

Her dramatic sobbing startled Ye Mian.

Even in the study next door, Ye Haisheng couldn’t help but take off his glasses several times, rub his aching temples, and pace the living room.

Ye Mian indulged her, only occasionally zoning out during dull plots.

Unconsciously, she recalled the scene from the first film where the male lead was sent to prison.

For some reason, Jiang Chen came to mind.

Perhaps “murderer” was too harsh a word.

Her good mood evaporated, and during the next film, her eyes reddened as well.

The afternoon quietly slipped away. The evening breeze rustled the treetops in the neighborhood, painting the sky gold with the colors of dusk, fluttering the curtains in the wind.

Night gradually spread across the blue sky.

Ye Qingqing, exhausted from crying, ate dinner and collapsed on Ye Mian’s bed to rest. Before closing her eyes, she reminded Ye Mian, “I sleep really deeply, so you don’t have to worry about me. Do whatever you like—even heavy metal won’t wake me.”

Ye Mian laughed, “Alright.”

But she had no intention of testing it; she wasn’t so mischievous as to blast death metal while someone slept.

That summer was especially hot, the evening breeze particularly pleasant, never leaving one sticky, and every sunset was breathtakingly beautiful.

Ye Mian couldn’t help but be drawn in. She opened the sliding door to the balcony, sat in the wicker chair outside.

The scent of greenery was easy to catch on the breeze.

Even as only the fading light of sunset remained, she didn’t return inside.

Her phone chimed softly. She glanced at the caller and, not wanting to disturb Ye Qingqing, put on headphones.

“Hello? Jiang Chen.”

Her voice still carried a raspy, tearful tone.

She hadn’t meant to, but having just cried, her voice hadn’t recovered yet.

The breeze seemed to carry Jiang Chen’s voice along with it.

“Ye Mian, have you eaten?”

Rocking the wicker chair, Ye Mian hadn’t expected Jiang Chen to call about this. She nodded, “Yes, I have.”

The sky was dark, the white walls of the neighborhood reflected the silhouettes of birds, and the old district had been overtaken by high-rises.

With this scene, hearing Jiang Chen’s voice gave Ye Mian a sense of melancholy, as if times had changed.

Until she heard soft footsteps behind her.

Ye Mian turned to see Ye Qingqing standing at the doorway, watching her. “Mianmian, what are you doing?”

Next chapter will have more hidden sweetness.

(End of this chapter.)