Soon, Jin Ran also felt the gaze falling on her.
She mouthed an apology with a sheepish expression, careful to lighten her steps. “Sorry, I’ll be quieter.”
Jiang Mingzuo didn’t respond.
He turned back to the participants of the video conference and said, “Redo the proposal. Hand it to Assistant Wang this afternoon.”
The project manager who had been presenting: “…”
With that, he ended the online meeting, stood up, and walked over to Jin Ran. “Why didn’t you ask the housekeeper for help?”
He reached out to take the stack of books from her hands, but Jin Ran, mindful of his injury, quickly moved them away. “No need, no need, your arm isn’t healed yet.”
“There’s the other hand.”
Jiang Mingzuo’s tone was firm. Jin Ran could only compromise, handing him half of the books. She kept her eyes fixed on him, making sure he could effortlessly hold over ten reference books with his left hand without straining his right arm before she felt at ease.
To be honest, a man who notices things that need doing is really a plus!
It was no wonder Jin Ran felt this way.
Most apps these days use algorithmic recommendations. Once you click on a certain type of content, it keeps pushing similar stuff.
Recently, Jin Ran had accidentally stumbled into a family ethics post online. She spent ten furious minutes arguing with a spineless, love-addled blogger before getting blocked. As a result, for the next few days, she was bombarded with countless posts about couples fighting and divorcing over trivial matters.
Even though she stopped engaging in time, the mental pollution had left her somewhat marriage- and child-phobic for a while.
The posts covered all sorts of bizarre situations, with household chores being the root cause in about eighty percent of them. For instance, one person is busy while the other remains indifferent. Even if they had agreed on a division of labor beforehand, conflicts would still arise in different situations for various reasons.
Some bloggers even started doubting themselves, saying they still loved each other but lived in misery, and couldn’t figure out the answer even after getting divorced.
Jin Ran had a science-major’s mindset, used to getting to the bottom of problems.
She should have put her phone down and gone back to solving practice problems, but seeing the blogger’s anguish, she ended up collecting twenty cases and finally analyzing the core issue: the real conflict wasn’t the chores themselves, but the other person’s sense of entitlement—the “chores are your responsibility” mindset.
If you love me, why do you turn a blind eye to my busyness?
This led to constant doubt, anger, arguments, accusations, and then emotional drain—a vicious cycle.
Once she understood the deeper cause, Jin Ran’s fear subsided. If she didn’t want to get angry over invisible household labor, then she just needed to find a clean, observant man who noticed what needed to be done.
To others, Jin Ran’s excessive calmness might seem surprising.
Only she knew that as early as her previous life, when her parents blamed each other after their factory went bankrupt, she had already seen through the nature of marriage. Compared to elusive and fleeting love, what matters more for two people to stay together is the other person’s character and sense of responsibility.
As the saying goes, when choosing a partner, don’t just look for someone who is good to you; look for someone who is genuinely good as a person.
So, even though she felt a moment of admiration for Jiang Mingzuo, she didn’t let it cloud her judgment or make her want to start a relationship with him.
He was good, but she was no less capable herself. She firmly believed that in the near future, she would reach even greater heights.
Jiang Mingzuo’s gaze fell on the books in his hand.
He had heard from the housekeeper that Jin Ran had become very fond of reading lately. He initially thought it was just another one of her tactics, but today he realized it truly was a “great fondness for reading.” Connecting this with her application for the substitute teacher position, he understood. “Preparing for the teacher certification exam?”
“Mm-hmm. Being a substitute isn’t a long-term plan, so I’m planning to substitute while preparing for the teacher certification exam. If I pass, the salary would be at least three times what it is now!” Mentioning salary fueled Jin Ran’s motivation even more.
“That’s good,” Jiang Mingzuo considered for a moment and expressed approval. “Stable.”
Hearing this, Jin Ran couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Not wrong, it’s just that it sounds a bit odd coming from a CEO worth hundreds of billions like you,” Jin Ran explained with a smile. “Apart from the older generation, many young people think a public sector job means a life that’s predictable from start to finish, lacking challenge.”
Jiang Mingzuo seemed thoughtful. “So, you mean to say I’m old?”
Jin Ran: “…”
She nearly choked on her saliva and hurriedly shook her head in denial. “No, no, I mean you, well, seem like the type who enjoys challenges. Where there’s life, there’s challenge. So I thought you might find being a teacher boring.”
Calling someone old in front of a big shot is like pulling a lion’s whiskers—was she tired of living?
Besides, Jiang Mingzuo was thirty-five this year. Unlike many middle-aged men who start developing potbellies, he showed almost no traces of age on him.
With well-proportioned features and an upright, tall frame, his broad shoulders and narrow waist paired with subtly defined muscle lines far surpassed those of young men who neglected exercise. How could the word “old” possibly be associated with him? “…Anyway, I was complimenting you.”
The woman’s expression was incredibly vivid, like a vibrant landscape painting capturing the most beautiful scenery.
Her current look of straining to explain struck Jiang Mingzuo, and a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. “Actually, you weren’t entirely wrong. But rather than saying I enjoy challenges, it’s more that the circumstances back then forced me to take them on.”
Speaking of the past, Jiang Mingzuo’s tone was exceptionally calm, as if a blunt knife were slicing through the years, leaving only added depth and maturity in his gaze.
Jin Ran was momentarily stunned, suddenly remembering that the man before her wasn’t born into wealth like Jiang Xuli. His life had been fraught with difficulties.
Although the book hadn’t detailed it much, it was easy to imagine the hardships involved in going from a penniless arcade attendant to a tech star with a prestigious degree.
“And strictly speaking, I am indeed a bit older than you,” Jiang Mingzuo said, placing the books on the desk and turning to look at her.
Jin Ran: “…”
If she could do it over, she would never have said those words!
So, for the rest of the time, Jin Ran resolved to keep her mouth shut. Unexpectedly, this actually helped them pick up the pace.
After three more trips back and forth, they finally moved all the materials to the study.
It was tiring, but seeing the freshly organized study area under her hands gave her a great sense of accomplishment.
Jin Ran nodded in satisfaction. Honestly, she had to admit she was a bit obsessive-compulsive. She always had to make perfect preparations before studying. Like having a pen, a clean space, a full cup of water within reach, and a small plate of snacks.
Lunch was still two hours away. From all the work, Jin Ran’s stomach was already growling with hunger. Low blood sugar made her crave something sweet.
She looked over at Jiang Mingzuo, who had returned to his desk to work. Hesitating for a couple of seconds, she figured he didn’t seem like someone with a sweet tooth, so she didn’t disturb him and headed to the kitchen alone.
By now, Chef Wang and the others were on duty, handling the fresh ingredients just purchased.
Seeing Jin Ran enter, Chef Wang smiled before she even spoke. “Madam is here. We got fresh beef ribs today. We’ll make tomato rib soup for lunch.”
Jin Ran immediately cheered inwardly and then asked if she could have some cookies.
Chef Wang readily agreed. He often made Western pastries these days, so the tools and ingredients were ready. “Want some blueberries added? We have fresh ones from today’s shopping.”
“Sure, make a bit more. I’ll take some to Xiaoli later.”
Last night, she’d eaten half of his bread. Although the teenager hadn’t said anything then, his faintly resentful little look had still amused her.
But she understood. Back in her school days, her appetite was huge enough to “eat a cow.”
While waiting, Jin Ran looked around. “Where’s Auntie Zhang? Isn’t she here today?”
Someone else in the kitchen said, “Auntie Zhang resigned.”
Jin Ran was slightly surprised. “Why suddenly resign?” She had seen her just that morning.
“Heard her daughter-in-law had a grandson, so she’s going over to help care for them.”
Jin Ran said “oh.” Chinese parents not only have to care for their children but also their children’s children, and they often find great happiness in it.
At that moment, she couldn’t help but feel grateful she was a stepmother. She probably wouldn’t need to help with childcare in the future.
When the cookies were ready, she carried a large, full box upstairs. As expected, Jiang Mingzuo showed no interest in the cookies, so she confidently divided them into two equal portions. She left the slightly larger box and took the other to the third floor.
Naturally, she didn’t notice Jiang Mingzuo looking up as she left.
…
Jiang Xuli was playing a game.
Deafening gunfire blared from the speakers when his door was suddenly knocked on.
He opened it impatiently, meeting Jin Ran’s beaming smile. “Made some cookies. I can’t finish them all by myself. Want some?”
Jiang Xuli thought about mentioning his dad, but the rich, milky aroma wafting toward him made him swallow involuntarily.
While he was hesitating, Jin Ran had already shoved the box into his hands and glanced into his room. “Playing a game?”
Jiang Xuli found himself lying inexplicably: “…Just finished. About to start homework.”
Jin Ran said “oh.” “Actually, playing games is fine. When I teach, I always advocate balancing work and play.”
She even took the chance to promote herself: “Monday’s first period is my math class. Remember to come. I’ll show how to make learning fun by playing games with the students.”
Her stepson often skipped classes. Not only did he skip himself, but he also led other students to do the same, leaving many teachers furious but too intimidated to speak out.
When she reported on Friday, other teachers had already warned her in advance. To prevent this from happening, Jin Ran chose to notify him ahead of time.
The cookies were both an apology and a bribe—a transparent, above-board stratagem.
Jiang Xuli: “…”
After the woman left, he carried the box of cookies thrust upon him back to his room. Looking at the computer screen again, the game that had been so captivating moments ago suddenly felt utterly uninteresting.
So, he turned off the game console, planning to do some practice problems, only to realize he hadn’t brought his schoolbag.
After thinking for a moment, he simply pulled out the letter of apology he had only just started writing.
The golden-brown, crispy shortbread cookies sat beside him, emitting a rich aroma. Occasionally, he’d reach for a piece without thinking.
So tasty.
….
Time flew by, and Monday arrived quickly.
These past few days, meals at the Jiang residence had been remarkably punctual. At every mealtime, three familiar figures could always be seen at the dining table, something even the housekeeper was gradually getting used to.
He was even somewhat moved.
Having worked at the villa for so many years, the master was often busy with work and didn’t return home frequently. The young master was usually here, but the sight of him eating alone always carried a tinge of loneliness.
Now, things were better. The housekeeper smiled warmly. Since the madam arrived, the place felt more and more like a home.
Meanwhile, when Jiang Xuli finished packing and came downstairs, his father and Jin Ran were already sitting at the table eating. The first time he saw this scene, he was shocked, but now he had grown accustomed to it.
He sat down in his usual spot.
A place far from his father, and not particularly close to Jin Ran either.
Without a word, he began wolfing down his food as soon as he sat down. During the meal, he overheard the conversation between the two across from him—something about civil service exams and teacher certifications. So boring.
He curled his lip dismissively, unaware that even as he mentally complained, he was still eavesdropping on every word. At one point, he even glanced up, accidentally meeting Jin Ran’s eyes.
Though his heart skipped a beat and he immediately looked away, it was too late.
Because soon after, he heard Jin Ran say to him, “Did you like the cookies from yesterday?”
“Cookies?”
Jiang Mingzuo looked puzzled, inexplicably recalling the box of cookies she had brought to the study yesterday.
At the time, seeing how she cherished them, he thought they were her personal stash. He hadn’t expected they were for Xuli.
“Yeah, Chef Wang made them. I shared a portion with Xiaoli.”
Jiang Mingzuo, who hadn’t received any cookies and hadn’t even been asked if he wanted any: “…”
Under the intense gaze of both, Jiang Xuli had no choice but to purse his lips and force out two words: “They were okay.”
More than just okay. He had initially planned to just taste them, figuring the box contained at least thirty or forty pieces. Who knew he’d finish the entire box while writing his apology letter?
It made him briefly wonder if he was a bottomless pit.
Jin Ran, however, was pleased to hear this. ‘One who accepts food is seldom critical.’ He probably wouldn’t skip her class now. Still, just in case, she took out another box. “Actually, I had Chef Wang make another flavor—sea salt lemon. It’s not as sweet as the blueberry one and could be a little snack after math class.”
By the time Jiang Xuli fled the villa like he was escaping, his backpack was twice as heavy as usual.
At the dining table, Jiang Mingzuo, who was returning to the company today, waited quietly after finishing his meal.
Watching Jin Ran’s smiling, crescent-shaped eyes after she gave away the cookies, a flicker of something unreadable passed through his gaze.
Jin Ran was reviewing her lesson plan in her head when she suddenly heard Jiang Mingzuo ask, “What does sea salt lemon taste like?”
She was taken aback, not expecting Jiang Mingzuo to be curious about such a thing. Then again, Newton saw an apple and started theorizing—maybe this was just a trait of high-achievers. She pushed the remaining box toward him. “Hmm, a bit sour, a bit salty. Hard to describe. You can try one.”
Jiang Mingzuo picked up a piece with practiced restraint.
“How is it?” Jin Ran asked expectantly.
Jiang Mingzuo calmly swallowed the tooth-achingly sweet cookie. “Mm, better than I imagined.”
Jin Ran immediately smiled. Even though she didn’t make the cookies herself, she was the one who requested them from the chef! She waved generously. “If you like them, you can have this box!”
“No need.” Jiang Mingzuo took three pieces from the box and pushed the rest back. “This is enough for me.”