At this moment, Jiang Yufeng’s brow was tightly furrowed.
His head throbbed with a dull ache.
Not long before, he had gone to Chen Miaoyin’s place, where Dean Chen, Gu Xingze, and Bai Haoyu were all present.
As soon as he arrived, Dean Chen asked him about the resignation letter, wanting to know what he was really thinking.
Dean Chen was the vice dean of the Beijing Buddhist College.
Jiang Yufeng did not work at the Jiang family’s company but served as a teacher in the Buddhist studies department at the Beijing Buddhist College.
He had just been promoted to professor at the beginning of the year.
Jiang Yufeng’s gaze darkened slightly.
This resignation email was sent to Dean Chen when he was preparing to become a monk, intending to settle his worldly affairs beforehand.
Now, his plans to become a monk had to be postponed for three years.
There was no rush to resign.
He could stay at the Buddhist College for another three years.
Later, Dean Chen left.
He was pulled aside by Gu Xingze and Bai Haoyu to stay and enjoy incense, tea, and discussions on Buddhism.
Chen Miaoyin also proudly lit a new blend of incense she had created.
Chen Miaoyin said it was a meditative incense that could calm the mind, suitable for Buddhist rituals and meditation.
However, as soon as the incense was lit, he felt the fragrance was overly heavy and intense.
But since Gu Xingze and Bai Haoyu praised it repeatedly, he didn’t say anything.
As the incense burned longer, the scent grew even stronger.
It wasn’t particularly pleasant, but it was tolerable.
In truth, he had noticed long ago that Chen Miaoyin wasn’t particularly talented in blending incense.
But Chen Miaoyin had graduated from the Buddhist College and shared many common topics with Gu Xingze, Bai Haoyu, and others.
Moreover, Chen Miaoyin was a particularly quiet girl, exceptionally good at listening.
Over time, Chen Miaoyin became one of the few female friends in their circle.
Brewing a pot of tea and lighting a burner of incense, Chen Miaoyin would always listen intently as everyone discussed Buddhism, occasionally offering one or two insightful remarks.
But today, Chen Miaoyin seemed somewhat distracted.
When Gu Xingze spoke to her, she appeared lost in thought.
It wasn’t until Gu Xingze waved his hand in front of Chen Miaoyin’s eyes that she snapped back to attention.
However, Chen Miaoyin didn’t respond to Gu Xingze. Instead, her gaze fell on Jiang Yufeng, and she suddenly said, “This morning, I saw a wedding at the Yunxi Yazu Resort Villa. From a distance, the groom looked a lot like you.”
Hearing this, Gu Xingze and Bai Haoyu were both puzzled.
They didn’t understand why Chen Miaoyin was suddenly talking about someone else’s wedding.
As for Jiang Yufeng, when he heard Chen Miaoyin mention Yunxi Yazu, he frowned slightly.
A moment later, his furrowed brow relaxed, returning to its usual calm and detached expression.
He set down his teacup and said softly, “It wasn’t just similar. That was me.”
Instantly, Gu Xingze and Bai Haoyu were both stunned, their mouths agape.
“You got married? Why didn’t you tell us?” Gu Xingze exclaimed.
“That’s not very considerate of you,” Bai Haoyu added.
Then, as if remembering something, Gu Xingze said with disbelief, “Miaoyin saw your wedding this morning, so that means tonight is your wedding night!
On your wedding night, instead of being with your bride, you’re out here drinking tea with us?”
His words almost outright called Jiang Yufeng thoughtless.
Bai Haoyu nodded in agreement.
Jiang Yufeng took a sip of tea. He had no intention of discussing his marriage to Ye Ximeng or their marital agreement in casual conversation.
The pleasant discussion of incense and Buddhism had already taken on a different flavor when Chen Miaoyin brought up his personal affairs.
Combined with the overly dense and heavy fragrance filling the room…
Jiang Yufeng set down his teacup, nodded slightly, and said, “You continue enjoying yourselves. I have some matters to attend to and will head back first.”
Gu Xingze and Bai Haoyu were not foolish; they quickly realized Jiang Yufeng’s reluctance to discuss his private matters.
Neither of them said anything more, nor did they try to persuade Jiang Yufeng to stay for further Buddhist discourse.
Jiang Yufeng stood up, picked up his coat, and as he was about to leave, Chen Miaoyin hurried over, saying, “Yufeng, let me accompany you.”
“No need.”
Despite Jiang Yufeng’s refusal, Chen Miaoyin still followed him out when he waited for the elevator.
“Yufeng, you said before that you wouldn’t marry.” At some point, Chen Miaoyin’s eyes had already brimmed with tears.
Jiang Yufeng frowned. If Ye Ximeng were present, she would notice that Jiang Yufeng’s aloofness was not entirely an innocent, untouched purity—this aloofness could also be sharp and cold.
Like now.
It was a chill that kept others at a distance, seemingly infusing the surrounding air with a touch of icy solitude.
“This is my private matter,” Jiang Yufeng said.
“Yufeng, you know my feelings.”
Chen Miaoyin’s tears finally slid from her eyes, pear blossoms drenched in rain, pitiful and heartrending—a demeanor most likely to stir a man’s protective instincts.
Yet Jiang Yufeng remained unmoved, his cool, detached aura not diminishing even slightly.
“Miss Chen, please be mindful of your words. I don’t want my wife to misunderstand anything.”
“But you clearly said you wouldn’t fall in love with any woman, nor marry any woman.”
Chen Miaoyin’s tone was sorrowful, her tears falling like broken strings of pearls.
She stepped forward twice, seemingly intending to grasp Jiang Yufeng’s arm.
Jiang Yufeng retreated a step to avoid her.
Just then, the elevator arrived.
Jiang Yufeng walked straight into the elevator.
Chen Miaoyin still wanted to follow, but a sharp glance from Jiang Yufeng deterred her, and she dared not persist further.
…
Shortly after leaving Chen Miaoyin’s residence, Jiang Yufeng’s migraine began.
He sat in the driver’s seat, tightly furrowing his brow, occasionally pressing or rubbing his forehead or temples.
A dangerous accident occurred when he was very young.
A senior monk saved him.
Later, he once suffered from severe post-traumatic stress disorder.
The migraine condition also originated from that time.
His belief in Buddhism was partly due to this reason.
Like a psychological suggestion, in temples, watching monks clad in robes, listening to Zen masters and senior monks expound scriptures and doctrines, and inhaling the lingering incense of meditation gave him a particularly strong sense of security.
It also allowed him to calm down entirely, even alleviating his migraine somewhat.
At that time, he was still young. His psychologist suggested to his parents that he should frequently engage with things that brought him security, visiting temples more often…
Today, perhaps due to exhaustion from attending wedding festivities, or perhaps because Chen Miaoyin’s blended incense was too intense, his migraine had triggered.
He drove through the night, brow tightly furrowed.
The city’s street scenes swiftly retreated in the speeding car’s wake.
He owned many properties. After leaving Chen Miaoyin’s residence, he originally intended to go to another dwelling.
But the migraine grew increasingly severe, and the other residences were all too far away.
After weighing his options, he decided to head to the nearest bridal suite.