When Jiang Sheng tossed the box of cookies onto the table, he let out a faint, exasperated scoff.
What a mess this is…
He had originally given the cookies to Wei Ying. Wei Ying must have passed them to his niece, and that girl—treasuring them like a prize—had naturally handed them over to his nephew.
And yet just now, that brat had stood at his door saying what?
That girl—what was her name again…
Song Chutong?
She had asked Jiang Zhixing to deliver them to him?
Jiang Sheng had zero interest in getting tangled up in such childish love triangle nonsense. After coldly scolding Jiang Zhixing and telling him not to bother him unless necessary, he handled some official business and left the office—
Taking the ridiculous box of cookies with him.
And that look Jiang Zhixing gave him earlier—what was that supposed to mean?
Did he seriously think Jiang Sheng would be interested in some little girl?
Jiang Sheng let out a cold laugh.
He disliked that type the most—delicate, pampered girls who cried at the slightest discomfort and couldn’t endure hardship.
Not that he had any intention of dating at all—but if he ever did, he’d want someone on his level. At the very least, she’d need a strong personality and solid physical endurance. Only people on the same wavelength could truly get along.
That said… he vaguely remembered Wei Ying mentioning someone who loved eating crabs.
Who was it again?
And because Wei Ying had distracted him earlier, he’d completely forgotten to ask Jiang Zhixing what exactly was going on between him and Song Chutong.
Though to be fair… he wasn’t interested in the answer anyway.
“Delicious!”
Song Chutong was used to eating at state-run restaurants, but places reserved specifically for high-ranking officials were a different story—she rarely had the chance to come.
Her father, though a factory director, didn’t have the status. Jiang Zhixing did—but even if he brought someone, it would never have been her.
And Song Chutong wasn’t the type to beg her uncle or grandfather just for a good meal.
But thinking about the miserable days she endured in prison in her dream… right now, all she wanted was to eat well and enjoy herself.
Wei Ying glanced at his watch. “If you like it, we’ll come again. I’m on leave these days—we’ve got plenty of chances.”
Song Chutong beamed. “Yay! Uncle, you’re the best!”
She had three uncles. Her eldest and second uncles were much older than her. They treated her well—but they were strict, traditional, and always compared her to Song Weiran.
And Song Weiran was exactly the person she hated being compared to.
Over time, Song Chutong avoided them.
But now she’d figured things out—she would keep the good and discard the bad. Those two uncles did care about her, supporting her behind the scenes—it was just their way of showing it that needed fixing.
So…
She was definitely going to correct that bad habit of theirs.
Wei Ying nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. Stay away from your older uncles—I don’t even like dealing with them.”
Every time they met, it was all about urging him to get married. He couldn’t understand it—weren’t they more anxious than even the old man?
They already had two sons each. Even if it was about continuing the family line, they didn’t need to rely on him.
After the meal, Song Chutong packed some food to take away. Wei Ying then drove her back to the military compound.
“I’ll go in myself,” she said. “Otherwise, people will start gossiping again.”
She didn’t want her uncle hearing those rumors just yet. Honestly, she was sure they were already spreading—between how big the situation had gotten and the “loudspeakers” in the arts troupe, anything remotely negative about her would spread like wildfire.
And her uncle had a bad temper—she was a little wary.
Wei Ying didn’t think much of it. He himself didn’t want to run into Jiang Sheng either—he still felt a bit guilty.
After all, Jiang Sheng had agreed to his ridiculous requests. Wei Ying knew very well how unreasonable they were.
Song Chutong had expected that one of her cousins or uncles would come looking for her first.
Instead, the one waiting outside her dormitory… was Song Weiran.
The “white lotus” really lived up to her name.
Just standing there with tearful, stubborn eyes, she had already drawn quiet criticism toward Song Chutong from the people behind her.
Song Chutong turned around, placed a finger to her lips, and said softly:
“Keep it down. I can hear you. And I will get back at you.”
The group instantly fell silent, their faces shifting through pale, red, and green—like a rainbow, which Song Chutong found oddly amusing.
Still, they were confused.
Song Chutong had always been arrogant, yes—but not this brazen.
Wasn’t Jiang Zhixing the type who hated using power to bully others?
Everyone had already figured out that her claim of liking Jiang Sheng was just a cover to save face—but seeing her attitude now, they weren’t so sure anymore.
After all… could someone really let go of a sixteen-year crush just like that?
Song Chutong thought the most entertaining sight wasn’t the crowd—but Song Weiran’s pitiful, on-the-verge-of-tears expression.
Crossing her arms, she said impatiently:
“If you’ve got something to say, say it. I’m not feeling well—don’t waste my time.”
The crowd grew even more indignant.
Not feeling well? Song Chutong looked radiant, holding fragrant takeout food, her attitude as arrogant as ever.
If anyone looked unwell, it was Song Weiran—pale as paper, slender like a fragile willow.
And everyone knew—
The original dance performance, led by Song Weiran, had suddenly been changed into a combined singing-and-dancing act.
Who would get more attention between singers and dancers?
That went without saying.
If this wasn’t Song Chutong’s doing, who would believe it?
“Chutong… why would you do this?”
As Song Weiran spoke, a tear slid down her cheek—fragile, yet stubborn.
Song Chutong thought to herself:
Someone this fragile…
Wouldn’t it be a waste not to break her completely?
Just an ant… so easy to crush.