Early the next morning, Su Qian went upstairs to deliver breakfast as usual.
Perhaps because she’d stayed up late yesterday, she got up a little later than usual today.
She knocked. No one answered.
A little worried, she was about to message Jiang Ji on WeChat when she unexpectedly saw that he had posted on his Moments.
The caption was just a running emoji.
The photo showed a red running track—one she recognized. It was the rubber track at the nearby park.
So he’d gone for a run. Looks like he was fine.
Then, Su Qian realized something huge!
Jiang Ji’s Moments were visible to her now!
In an instant, it was as if fireworks exploded in Su Qian’s mind, and she felt refreshed all through the workday.
“Here, breakfast.”
In the office, Su Qian set the extra portion of breakfast on Xia Jie’s desk.
Xia Jie was delighted. “Thanks, darling!”
Su Qian lowered her voice and told her about Jiang Ji being sick yesterday and how his Moments were now open to her.
Xia Jie glanced at the breakfast in front of her and smiled knowingly.
“So I’m benefiting from your little brother’s glow. But tell me—didn’t you get a taste of him at 38 degrees last night?”
“No…”
“Don’t tell me you two still haven’t kissed.”
“Wouldn’t that be sexual harassment?”
“Oh please, miss. Us men? The big head controls the little head. And you’ve only got eight days left. If you keep up this pure-love act, how are you ever going to win the kid over?”
“Jiang Ji probably isn’t into that kind of thing you’re talking about…”
“Lose the rose-tinted glasses. All men are the same—they love it naughty.” Xia Jie lowered her voice. “Seriously, don’t blame me for being crude, but idol dramas are just for fooling little girls. If you want to seduce a man, you’d be better off watching porn.”
“…”
Crude as it was, she had a point.
But it was way too crude.
Xia Jie waved a hand. “Forget it, let’s drop it.”
Then she asked, “You made breakfast anyway—why not unlock the door and go in? At least he’d know you came by.”
“He wasn’t home. If I went in without permission and something went missing, I’d have a hard time explaining.”
“How could that happen? The kid drives a big G at his age—he’s not short on money.”
Su Qian wanted to ask the same thing: how could that happen?
But she’d actually been through something that absurd once, and she’d even been taken to the police station.
Luckily there was no evidence, so she was released.
A fall into the pit, a gain in your wit.
Su Qian had learned the lesson of not standing under a dangerous wall.
Unfortunately, the company’s AI model had issues today, with meetings stacked inside meetings.
Su Qian was run off her feet, sneaking a bite of a cracker for lunch in a rare spare moment.
By the time the problems were solved, it was already evening.
Su Qian slumped exhausted in her chair when her phone rang.
It was her biological father, Su Minghua.
On the phone, Su Minghua said:
“Qianqian, are you free this weekend? I messaged you on WeChat but you didn’t reply. Dad has picked out a nice young man for you. He’s a third-generation red family, good-looking, and he’s seen your photos. He said he’d like to get to know you.”
Su Qian’s head ached.
Now that she’d reached marriageable age, her parents—who normally ignored her—had developed a telepathic connection.
Not long ago, her mother had also arranged a blind date for her.
Talked it up endlessly.
But when she saw the photo, the man was old enough to be her father, and he came with a son in high school.
The son was pretty handsome, though.
But Su Qian had no interest in playing stepmother romance.
Su Qian firmly refused.
Somehow, that touched her mother’s reverse scale:
“Su Qian, don’t be so ungrateful. At your age, you’re already considered a leftover woman on the dating market. Men with good prospects won’t even consider you. There are plenty of women out there who are younger, fresher, and prettier than you!”
Su Qian replied calmly:
“Mom, you shouldn’t have hit menopause yet—you still have reproductive value. I think this man would be a great match for you. Who knows, he might even give me another little brother.”
Her mother flew into a rage and cursed her out over the phone.
Although Su Qian knew her mother was deliberately trying to make her anxious, she couldn’t help taking it to heart.
Was she really getting old…
That was why she had posted online and started an online relationship.
Only to fall right into Su Luoluo’s trap and waste three months of her life.
…
Right now, facing her father Su Minghua, Su Qian didn’t believe a single word.
If there really were such an outstanding man, Su Luoluo would have snatched him up long ago.
There was no way he’d be left for her.
Su Qian said flatly, “I have a meeting. I’m hanging up.”
After a long day of work, Su Qian leaned back in her ergonomic chair to rest.
She had a vague feeling that she had forgotten something.
Right—Jiang Ji!
She had been so happy that morning that she’d forgotten to like his post.
At the thought, Su Qian immediately clicked into Jiang Ji’s profile.
Only to discover—
His Moments were invisible to her again.
All she could see were two familiar gray lines.
Jiang Ji had blocked her from his Moments again.
Su Qian had no idea what she’d done wrong. She hurriedly opened her chat window with Jiang Ji and sent a sticker of a cat peeking its head out.
But a red exclamation mark popped up.
[Message sent but rejected by the recipient]
Jiang Ji had blocked her?!
Su Qian was bewildered.
Su Qian was confused.
Wasn’t everything fine just this morning? She’d thought her little brother was about to be softened by her enthusiastic advances, but now everything had gone right back to square one.
She rushed home immediately and rang the doorbell upstairs.
One minute, two minutes…
Su Qian rang the doorbell for five minutes, but there was no response from inside.
Hoping for the best, she entered the front door passcode.
The door opened.
Before she could even feel happy about it, Su Qian saw that the room was pitch dark.
Jiang Ji wasn’t there.
Su Qian sighed and turned to leave.
Then a cold voice rang out from the darkness. “Su Qian, is this your idea of pursuing someone?”
“Jiang Ji? You’re home?”
The lights came on.
Jiang Ji was sitting on the sofa, wearing a white T-shirt with horizontal stripes. The collar was a bit loose, revealing a hint of his snow-white collarbone. His ink-black hair fell over his eyes as he stared at her with those pitch-black eyes, his lips red as if stained with blood.
Su Qian was startled.
Only then did she notice a faint smell of alcohol in the air.
Her gaze swept over, and sure enough, she spotted a bottle of liquor on the glass coffee table.
It looked like imported liquor.
Su Qian didn’t know much about it, but her intuition told her the bottle probably wasn’t cheap.
“Why have you been drinking? Don’t you have a stomachache?”
“None of your business.”
Su Qian sighed inwardly.
She had no idea what she’d done to offend this young master, but Jiang Ji was slightly tipsy right now, beautiful like a flower at its most brilliant moment just before it withers.
A flower blooming this beautifully—if she didn’t take a few extra glances, it would make her seem oblivious to romance.
Su Qian walked over and sat down on the sofa.
“Got another cup?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Su Qian simply picked up his cup and brought it to her lips.
“You—”
Jiang Ji hadn’t expected her to do that. He reached out and blocked the cup. “I have a cold.”
Su Qian took the chance to move closer, her gaze drifting from his beautiful eyes down to his crimson lips. She asked with a smile, “Afraid of catching it from me?”
“Of course not.”
Jiang Ji tried to look away.
But Su Qian wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the corner of his lips.
Jiang Ji’s body went rigid in an instant.
The complete opposite of his soft lips.
Su Qian noticed.
She let go and pulled back a little. “A-Ji’s lips are so soft. Can I kiss you again?”
Jiang Ji’s breathing grew uneven. “You…”
Under the light, Su Qian suddenly smiled.
She tilted her face up. “They say passing a cold on to someone else makes you recover faster. So, I want A-Ji to get better soon.”