The seconds during which the sourness receded stretched out long.
When the last trace of bitterness was just beginning to fade, a hint of sweetness quietly seeped out between her lips.
Faint at first, then slowly spreading.
The crisp scent of lemon diffused through the air, carrying a coolness that reached deep into her lungs, gently soothing every inch of the wreckage.
Jiang Ningchu's lashes trembled, and the fingers covering her mouth loosened slightly.
"Xiaochu, the noodles are ready~" Su Wanqing's voice called from downstairs. "Go call Aheng and come down and eat!"
"Okay~" Jiang Ningchu answered hastily, turning her head almost at the same moment to look at Jiang Heng, who stood by the door.
His gaze was fixed on her face, that trace of daze from the cool sweetness not yet fully faded.
The corner of his lips moved almost imperceptibly, and then, with a casual flick of his wrist—
"Have as many as you want."
The small silver box flew from his hand, tracing a brief arc through the dim hallway as he tossed it toward her.
"…"
Jiang Ningchu had no time to think; her fingers scrambled open in a panic.
Tap.
The metal tin, still carrying the warmth of his fingertips, dropped heavily into her slightly cool, soft palm.
She looked down, frozen.
The tiny candy tin… inexplicably burned in her hand.
Jiang Ningchu instinctively raised her hand to hand it back.
But before she could escape from that spine-chilling stare, the door clicked shut.
The suffocating pressure in the air vanished along with it.
The hallway returned to silence.
Jiang Ningchu tilted her head, standing frozen for a moment, her fingers instinctively curling shut, gripping that "hot potato" tightly.
It wasn't until Su Wanqing's urging came from downstairs again that she snapped back to her senses, hastily stuffed the candy tin into the pocket of her fluffy bunny pajamas, and hurried downstairs.
A small bowl of hot noodle soup with a poached egg, late at night—indescribably comforting and healing.
The soft noodles soaked in the clear broth, scallions floating vibrantly green, steam rising in a haze that blurred the lamplight before her.
Jiang Ningchu cupped the bowl in her hands, sipping the soup in small mouthfuls. The warm broth slid into her stomach, temporarily squeezing out all the anxious, restless thoughts that had nowhere to settle all night.
After saying goodnight to Su Wanqing and brushing her teeth again, she threw herself into the fluffy, soft bed.
The moment she turned onto her side, a faint sound came from deep in her pajama pocket—candy knocking against the metal walls of the tin.
Her movements stilled. After a few seconds of silence, she sat up anyway, took off her pajama robe, and reached into her pocket.
Her fingertips touched cool metal.
Jiang Ningchu fished it out and spread it on her palm.
It was that small silver candy tin.
The tin was no bigger than a palm, a rounded rectangle, completely plain with no pattern—except for a barely noticeable letter "J" engraved in the bottom right corner.
It was custom-made, she vaguely remembered.
As Jiang Ningchu's fingertips brushed gently over the elegant letter, she found herself inexplicably recalling the few scattered memories she had of Jiang Heng.
At first, she'd thought the thing he toyed with in his hand was a lighter.
At family gatherings during holidays, Jiang Heng would sit at Jiang Zhenting's side, surrounded by uncles and elders.
That flash of silver would glide smoothly between his slender knuckles, spinning and flipping.
Though he was only a boy in his teens, his supremely arrogant bearing already carried the faint air of a future family head.
Until one Spring Festival, through the shifting crowd, she happened to catch a glimpse of him using his thumb to flip open the lid of a box, plucking something out and casually tossing it into his mouth.
It dawned on her—so that's what it was. A candy tin.
This discovery kept Jiang Ningchu's curiosity alive for quite a long while.
It was candy, right?
What kind of candy? What flavor?
At the thought, that sourness from earlier seemed to rise again between her lips and teeth, her teeth going faintly weak, even her temples throbbing a little.
That small, long-accumulated, barely-there curiosity was instantly washed away without a trace.
She lowered her eyes and, mimicking the effortless ease she remembered from Jiang Heng, balanced the square box upright on the tip of her thumb, her index finger tentatively giving it a light flick—
The little silver box wobbled clumsily, managed only a halting spin on her fingertip, and dropped back into her palm.
In the end, it wasn't the kind of fluid grace he could command.
Her fingertip pushed absently against the cold surface of the box, but her thoughts drifted uncontrollably back to that moment of panic on the terrace.
Jiang Heng… he heard, didn't he?
Her fingers clutching the candy tin tightened slightly, the metal edge pressing into her palm, bringing a faint sting of clarity.
Then, with self-mockery, she let go.
So what if he heard?
When she entered high school, Jiang Heng had already gone abroad; by the time she started university, he had finished his studies and returned, taking over Jiang Corporation with the force of a thunderbolt.
Now, having just graduated and not yet even entered the workforce, she watched as he had already become the revered, decisive head of Jiang Group.
The intersections between them had always been as thin as the mist at dawn, lingering yet about to disperse—seemingly present, yet so weightless it carried no substance at all.
Besides, what was a trivial, in-name-only "little sister" worth? Why would he spare half a thought to notice her?
Let alone go to the trouble of "exposing" her?
Jiang Ningchu's eyes dimmed.
Her insignificant embarrassment and secret probably didn't even count as a passing amusement in Jiang Heng's eyes.
The anxiety she'd carried all evening seemed to finally run out of strength and slowly settled back into place.
So be it, then.
She leaned over and pulled open the top drawer of the nightstand.
With her knuckles slightly curled, she gave a gentle push, and the silver box, just warmed with a hint of her body heat, slid silently into the depths of the drawer.
The drawer was slowly pushed back into place.
With a soft click, the last faint gleam of metal was swallowed up completely, as if sealing away all the unspeakable moments of the night.
Drowsiness crept over her bit by bit.
Jiang Ningchu rolled over, buried her face in the soft pillow, and sank into sleep.
It was not a peaceful sleep.
In her dream, it felt as though she had lost something terribly important, and she kept running and searching through a hazy fog.
Her chest felt hollow, panic rising, yet no matter what, she couldn't remember what exactly she had lost.
Not until the morning alarm shattered the silence did the chaotic fragments of the dream recede like a tide, leaving behind only an emptiness with nowhere to land.
Jiang Ningchu struggled upright, leaned against the headboard and stared blankly for a while before reaching for the phone beside her pillow.
The screen lit up, a little red dot perched on the corner of the WeChat icon. She tapped it open, and two unread messages sat quietly at the top.
In her pinned chat were messages Zhou Yichi had sent after one in the morning:
[Yichi: Experiment done.]
[Yichi: Goodnight kitty.gif]
That hollow, suspended sense of loss from her dream suddenly found something solid to hold on to.
Jiang Ningchu's fingertip paused on the screen for a moment before she tapped out a soft, squishy cat-nodding sticker.
She exited the chat and opened another message, one Lin Wei had sent a few minutes earlier:
【Weiwei: Location: Yunqi Plaza】
【Weiwei: Nothing going on this morning. Call me before you come and I'll come down to meet you and show you around first!】
【Weiwei: Besties becoming work buddies, so excited~】
Followed by a comical penguin gentleman sticker, top hat and all, wiggling its body.
Her attention effectively diverted by Lin Wei's string of lively messages, Jiang Ningchu stared at the screen, the corners of her mouth curving up without her noticing.
She pushed back the thin covers, stepped barefoot onto the carpet, and walked to the window, pressing the switch for the electric curtains.
Morning light poured in unobstructed, its generous gold instantly spreading across half the room, tiny motes of dust drifting slowly in the beams.
Jiang Ningchu stretched her arms toward the golden light outside, gave a big lazy yawn-stretch, then turned and headed into the bathroom to wash up.
When she finished, she pushed open the door to the walk-in closet. Sensor lights lit up one after another, flooding the space and illuminating the neatly arranged clothes in the wardrobe.
Jiang Ningchu's gaze wandered over the dazzling array of hangers. Su Wanqing always dressed her up like a delicate doll—beautiful dresses of every style imaginable filled nearly every inch of the space.
This was her first visit since Lin Wei's company changed addresses. She couldn't be too casual, but an advertising agency had a relaxed atmosphere, so there was probably no need to be overly formal either.
Her slender fingertips brushed past dress after dress before finally stopping on a light apricot-colored short blazer suit.
The jacket had a slightly nipped-in waist and a cropped cut, paired with a matching knee-length A-line skirt. The tailoring was sharp and the lines clean, yet with a touch of playful liveliness—perfect for the season.
More importantly, this was her "lucky battle outfit."
Not long ago, she had worn exactly this outfit when she and her teammates won first prize at the Provincial Debate Competition, along with the title of Best Debater.
Dressed, she raised her hands and skillfully gathered her shoulder-length, silky straight hair into a fluffy, full bun on top of her head.
A few wispy strands fell naturally beside her fair, slender swan neck, adding a touch of liveliness.
She applied simple, barely-there makeup, then stood before the full-length mirror and gave a gentle twirl.
The light apricot blazer flattered her slim waist, and from beneath the A-line skirt extended the straight, well-proportioned lines of her calves.
The bun was fresh and neat; her natural youthful look was balanced by just the right amount of formality, radiating the freshness and energy of someone new to the working world.
All set, Jiang Ningchu smiled at her bright-eyed reflection in the mirror, made a little "you've got this" gesture, and headed downstairs with a light step.
The early morning garden was still wrapped in a layer of damp coolness.
A servant was bent over trimming the flower branches among the shrubs. The silver shears opened and closed in her hands, and the crystal-clear, plump morning dew on the leaves trembled at the soft snip of the blades, rolled off, and sank into the soil.
From the kitchen doorway, the warm aroma of food drifted out in an endless stream.
"Good morning, Godmother!"
Jiang Ningchu hopped down the last two steps, and the instant her feet landed, her right eyelid twitched twice.
An absurd thought suddenly popped into her head: she had a vague feeling that, just like in that chaotic dream, she was about to see a figure that should never appear at the breakfast table in the early morning.
Her gaze swept quickly toward the dining room.
Sure enough.
Broad swathes of morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a cool halo around Jiang Heng.
He sat upright at the table, his figure calm and still.
The air suddenly froze.
The faint warmth that had lingered from the kitchen silently dissipated.
"Huh? Xiaochu!" Su Wanqing was holding her phone, squinting as she strained to read the screen. At the sound, she looked up. "Perfect timing—come here!"
When her gaze landed on Jiang Ningchu's unusually sharp, crisp outfit, the smile on her face faltered slightly, her expression turning complicated.
"I was just about to ask you!"
She turned her phone screen toward Jiang Ningchu, tapping a photo on it with her fingertip, and asked tentatively, "This Moments post Weiwei put up ten minutes ago… the 'good sister' and 'newly minted office worker' she's talking about—is that you?"
As she spoke, her eyes returned to Jiang Ningchu, looking her up and down, the question in her gaze hardening into something more concrete—worry. "You're dressed so formally this morning… Are you going to work… at Weiwei's company?"
"Huh?"
Jiang Ningchu was stunned by the sudden question, her heart rate spiking.
She hurriedly lowered her head, fumbling her phone out of her pocket and opening Lin Wei's Moments:
【Yay, my good sister is finally here to be a corporate drone with me! All set up and waiting for the newly minted office worker! [sun]】
The accompanying photo showed a clean, tidy desk decorated with a green plant and cartoon figurines.
All these years, Lin Wei, as Jiang Ningchu's closest friend, had met Su Wanqing countless times—they'd long since added each other on WeChat.
Jiang Ningchu hadn't mentioned last night's incident to Lin Wei, so she probably had no idea.
"…"
Jiang Ningchu stood frozen in place, momentarily at a loss for how to respond.
Reason told her she should deny it immediately, flatly.
But meeting Su Wanqing's concerned, puzzled eyes, she couldn't bring herself to say "no."
She didn't want to lie to her.
"Heh."
A very soft scoff came from across the dining table, its mocking tone unmistakable.
Jiang Heng leisurely raised his coffee cup, lifting his gaze to sweep over her, the corner of his thin lips curving in faint sarcasm. "What kind of serious office worker is still at home waiting for breakfast at this hour?"
His derisive gaze felt almost tangible, a chill rolling off it like frost.
Jiang Ningchu looked up in a panic and collided directly with his icy eyes.
That extreme cold was like a splash of ice water, granting a moment's calm to her overheated, guilt-ridden brain.
"Ah… right."
Almost on pure instinct, she snapped back to her senses and quickly walked over to sit down across the table.
Putting on a show of composure, Jiang Ningchu reached out and grabbed a slice of lightly toasted bread from the elegant rattan basket.
Her speech unconsciously sped up. "I'm meeting Lin Wei to go shopping today. Something came up on her end, so she asked me to wait at her place first."
The excuse sounded reasonably plausible—only her tone was a touch too hurried…
As she spoke, she tried to make everything look as natural as countless ordinary mornings: sitting down in her usual seat, picking up her slice of toast, then reaching for the condiments in the middle of the table…
But just as her slender, fair fingers were about to touch the pale brown glass bottle in front of her, a hand with distinct knuckles and cool, pale skin got there first, casually moving the peanut butter away.
Then, a small glass jar filled with deep purple jam was pushed in front of her.
Blueberry jam.
Jiang Ningchu's outstretched hand paused in midair for half a second.
She was allergic to peanuts.
And what she actually liked was blueberry jam.
That overly precise swap made the string in Jiang Ningchu's mind—the one that had been taut since she came downstairs—snap without warning.
Her ability to think seemed to be drained in an instant, her mind going completely blank.
The morning light filtered through the gauze curtains and fell on Jiang Heng, tracing a hazy golden outline around him.
The warmth softened his aloofness, lending him an inexplicable touch of gentleness.
He held up the confiscated jar of peanut butter, idly reading the ingredients list, his tone full of disdain. "How could anyone eat something this disgusting?"
"Hey! You brat!"
As if reminded by his words, Su Wanqing slapped her thigh, stood up anxiously, and snatched the peanut butter from Jiang Heng's hand.
She turned and walked to the kitchen island, opened the cabinet, and carefully put the jar away, her voice tinged with lingering fear. "Your dad forgot to put this peanut butter away after eating it. Xiaochu mustn't touch it!"
The subtle, almost eerie atmosphere at the table was completely broken by Su Wanqing's flurry of movements.
She closed the cabinet, poured a glass of milk, and set it in front of Jiang Ningchu, asking anxiously, "Xiaochu, is toast all you're having? Should Godmom go make you something else in the kitchen? A bowl of little wontons?"
The cold blueberry jam spread on the still-warm toast released a rich, sweet-and-tart fruity aroma, and with the first bite, her crashed rationality gradually came back online.
Jiang Ningchu lowered her head, swallowing small bites of bread, and answered obediently, "No need, Godmom, this is perfect."
Su Wanqing sat back down, her eyes full of affection, and only then noticed the lit phone screen on the table, remembering the conversation they'd left unfinished.
Watching Jiang Ningchu's stuffed cheeks, she couldn't help but smile. "Slow down when you eat. But honestly, my Xiaochu dressed so smartly—you really do look like a proper little office worker now!"
Jiang Ningchu's mind raced as she nodded vigorously, picking up the thread. "That's right. After all, Lin Wei is a supervisor now. If I go to the office to wait for her, I don't want to be laughed at as some student girl."
"There's nothing wrong with being a student. Once you really start working, you'll miss your student days!"
Su Wanqing's doubts mostly dispelled, she sighed and couldn't help remarking:
"That advertising industry Weiwei works in—I can see it's truly grueling. Her social media feed is nothing but late nights at the office or business trips, all-nighters at the drop of a hat! Aiya, how can her parents bear it!"
"Xiaochu, you mustn't go do such exhausting work. If you ever had to pull an all-nighter for some client's demands, Godmom's heart would stop right along with you…"
Once she got going, she could hardly stop.
Frowning, Su Wanqing began imagining the "working life" Jiang Ningchu might face in the future, even anxiously rehearsing it in advance—she even worried about Jiang Ningchu's special condition, that she couldn't join her colleagues for group dinners.
Holding half a slice of toast, Jiang Ningchu wanted very much to explain.
She wanted to say that if she could stay up all night striving for an idea alongside a group of like-minded companions, creating work that stunned everyone, she would be the first to raise her hand and sign up.
But she knew that to Su Wanqing, such words would sound like pure fantasy.
Jiang Ningchu swallowed the words that had rushed to her lips along with the blueberry jam, listening quietly.
"I'm off."
Jiang Heng suddenly rose to his feet, turning impatiently toward Su Wanqing. "What did the old man want me to bring?"
"Oh, right—the medal of honor. Wait, I'll go upstairs and get it for you!"
Su Wanqing's train of thought was yanked back by the sudden interruption.
Jiang Zhenting had been invited to an important government meeting but had left the medal he was supposed to display in his study, so he'd called back asking Su Wanqing to figure something out.
She had mentioned it just now, and seeing that Jiang Heng showed no reaction, she had been planning to send the driver on the errand.
Su Wanqing instinctively rose and hurried toward the staircase, not forgetting to turn back and remind Jiang Ningchu, "Chu, take your time eating—make sure you're full before you head out! Remember to come home early tonight, and if there's anything you want to eat, just tell your godmother!"
Jiang Ningchu's eyes curved into a smile. "Okay, Godmother. Take care going up!"
Once Su Wanqing's figure disappeared around the corner of the staircase, the air circulating in the dining room seemed to sink all at once.
Jiang Heng didn't leave right away. Instead, he leaned casually against the edge of the dining table.
He lowered his eyes, his cool voice falling. "Still here? Waiting to keep chatting?"
"Ah… right, leaving now."
Jiang Ningchu's reaction was half a beat slow. She hastily pulled out a napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth, then scurried on small steps to the shoe cabinet by the side door, changed her shoes, and headed out.
The morning air was crisp and moist.
Driver He was already standing respectfully beside the black Mercedes parked in front of the house. Seeing her come out, he immediately bowed slightly and opened the rear door.
"Miss."
Jiang Ningchu paused for a moment, sitting into the car with a hint of surprise.
"Uncle He?" She looked toward the driver's seat, her tone puzzled. "What a coincidence… are you out on an errand?"
The Jiang family had three drivers, each with their own duties.
One was responsible for Jiang Zhenting's personal car, one mainly handled Su Wanqing's daily outings, and the remaining one, Driver He, was deployed flexibly as needed.
Back when Jiang Ningchu first started high school, Jiang Heng happened to go abroad, so Driver He took over the task of driving her to and from school every day.
By the time she got into university and Jiang Heng returned home after finishing his studies, Driver He became Jiang Heng's dedicated driver.
After she started college, Su Wanqing wanted to assign Jiang Ningchu another driver, but fearing she'd be a burden to the family, Jiang Ningchu politely declined.
Traveling between her school and the hillside villa, Jiang Ningchu mostly took taxis or the subway herself, and later, once Zhou Yichi started driving her around, she rarely troubled the family drivers at all.
Driver He gripped the steering wheel and gave her his usual, somewhat good-natured smile through the rearview mirror. "The young master specifically instructed me this morning to wait for you at the gate."
He paused briefly, then added in a steady voice, "To take you to work."