Jiang Wan’er knew this day would come sooner or later, but when she heard Qiao Xunan say those words, she still felt a sharp pang in her heart—as if an ice pick had been driven viciously into it, the ice melting bit by bit, gradually cooling her burning heart to the core. It wasn’t a fleeting pain, but a sudden, intense jolt, followed by a steady, dense network of small, lingering aches spreading across the very tip of her heart.
Qiao Xunan didn’t hear Jiang Wan’er’s reply; he turned onto his side.
“……” Jiang Wan’er watched Qiao Xunan’s movement. She opened her mouth, wanting to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.
That’s right—she, Jiang Wan’er, didn’t need to say anything; Qiao Xunan could make the decision on his own.
Jiang Wan’er wondered what use this house would be to her, but she couldn’t say she didn’t want it. Her family back home was still renting, and they needed this apartment. Jiang Wan’er desperately wanted to refuse, to say she didn’t need any of this, but her financial situation was too dire—she simply couldn’t bring herself to say such a thing.
Jiang Wan’er lay there, unable to sleep; she wanted to look at Qiao Xunan a little longer.
But with the lights off, it was pitch black, and Jiang Wan’er couldn’t see Qiao Xunan at all—especially since he had his back to her, so she couldn’t make out his face.
Jiang Wan’er didn’t dare make a sound; she didn’t want to disturb Qiao Xunan.
It wasn’t until late in the night that Jiang Wan’er finally fell asleep. When she opened her eyes, Qiao Xunan was already gone.
Qiao Xunan’s assistant arrived and, following Qiao Xunan’s instructions, placed the money on the table.
“Take this money and live a good life from now on.” The assistant looked at the delicate and fragile Jiang Wan’er, who exuded a natural air of vulnerability, appearing as if she might be blown over by the slightest breeze.
It wasn’t that the assistant meant to look down on Jiang Wan’er; it was simply that Jiang Wan’er and Qiao Xunan didn’t belong to the same social class to begin with.
Now that Qiao Xudong was in a coma, if Qiao Xunan were to actually become the head of the Qiao Group, it would be very difficult for Jiang Wan’er to fulfill her role as the matriarch of the family. If Qiao Xunan didn’t have to take the reins, things might be a little better. So many people have their eyes on Qiao Xunan; in their eyes, Jiang Wan’er is simply not worth considering. Those people would use every means possible against her—could Jiang Wan’er really withstand that?
The assistant believed that Jiang Wan’er’s character wasn’t fundamentally flawed. Agreeing to be a stand-in lover for the sake of her family wasn’t something she did willingly; she was simply forced by circumstances.
In the end, the assistant didn’t say anything more; those weren’t his place to say. As an assistant, one must know what can and cannot be done.
“Okay…” Jiang Wan’er could only manage that one word.
Early in the morning, Qiao Yitong headed to the Qiao Group building to check out the office space her great-uncle Qiao had set aside for her. Qiao Yitong still needed to find someone to do some simple renovations—she wanted the space to feel a little cozier.
As Qiao Yitong stepped out of the elevator, she ran into Murong Yuchen.
“What are you doing here?” Qiao Yitong asked.
“To see you,” Murong Yuchen replied.
“……” Qiao Yitong fell silent.
“You run into me and the first thing you ask is ‘What are you doing here?’ or ‘How did you get here?’” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego emerged. He believed he’d been giving the primary personality plenty of leeway—he’d even helped the primary personality pressure Qiao Yitong to take responsibility—yet the primary personality was dragging his feet.
“It just slipped out.” ” Qiao Yitong rubbed her nose guiltily. “That was the simplest thing to say—the easiest. I thought you were here to talk business with my uncle.
“We’re done with that,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego said. “Xudong’s in a coma, but the partnership has to continue. You’re still thinking that while your Qiao Group is in chaos, I’ll come and tear off a big chunk of it.”
“Don’t talk nonsense—I never told you to do that,” Qiao Yitong said. “I didn’t even tell you I was coming here.”
“There’s no such thing as a wall that doesn’t let the wind through,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego said. “Aren’t you going to show me your office?”
“Sure, sure. ” Qiao Yitong rolled her eyes. “You’re already standing right here—how could I possibly not let you see it?”
Qiao Yitong had come on her own; she hadn’t brought any friends with her. As far as she was concerned, she was the one running things here, and her friends were simply there to refer people to her. As for how to decorate the office, Qiao Yitong would need to hire professionals to handle the design and renovation; she had to check out the location first before deciding on the details.
Qiao Yitong took Murong Yuchen along to see the space, accompanied by a staff member arranged by her eldest uncle. That person led Qiao Yitong and the others to the locked office space and then left.
The area itself was vacant and unlocked. The space wasn’t particularly large, but it was still about a hundred square meters.
Qiao’s uncle and his people treated Qiao Yitong’s venture as a small-scale endeavor; none of them had considered giving her a larger space. Besides, the Qiao Group was already crowded with people—where would they find that many empty areas?
“Is that all there is?” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego looked around. “We might as well go to our own building—you can have as much space as you want there.”
“What do you mean, ‘your own building’?” Qiao Yitong asked. “I haven’t married you yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego said. “The doctor I arranged for your older brother is flying in this afternoon, and we’ll go to your family’s house tomorrow morning.”
“You’re my older brother’s friend—you should help him,” Qiao Yitong said.
“He hasn’t woken up yet. How am I supposed to go there and propose marriage?” Murong Yuchen’s alternate personality said, “If I went over now, wouldn’t you blame me for not caring whether your older brother lives or dies? Your older brother is marrying a wife to ward off bad luck—can’t you find a boyfriend to do the same for him? Isn’t that a happy occasion too?”
“You sure talk a lot!” Qiao Yitong said. “Sometimes I feel like you’re two different people.”
“Two people…” Murong Yuchen’s alternate personality chuckled softly. “One person, two people—does it really matter? The one standing in front of you will always be just one personality.”
Since the two personalities can’t appear at the same time, if they’re in the same body, that means there’s only one person!
“You aren’t daydreaming, are you? Thinking that if I had a twin brother, you could have one on each arm?” Murong Yuchen’s alternate personality said pointedly.
“You’re the one making false accusations, aren’t you?” Qiao Yitong hadn’t expected Murong Yuchen to say something like that—talking about twins and having a man on each side. Was she really that kind of person? “If you had a twin brother, he’d definitely be much gentler than you, and I’d definitely like him better than I like you!”
“Nonsense!” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego retorted incredulously. “You talk to me more.”
The primary personality was always as gentle as jade, spoke very little, and when he did, it was mostly useless drivel. All he could do was say hello, nod, and smile—what else could he do?
The primary personality didn’t even dare to say much in front of Qiao Yitong; he would just put on a show, imitating the alter ego.
Oh, and the primary personality had a very overbearing, fatherly air about him; sometimes he’d even spout dogmatic, lecturing remarks, which made people dislike him even more.
Murong Yuchen’s secondary personality talked a lot in front of Qiao Yitong. The secondary personality felt that the primary personality was like an old man, while the secondary personality was the one who was young and full of energy.
“First find your twin brother, then we’ll talk. Without the other person, who are you comparing yourself to?” Qiao Yitong said this on purpose. “Are you comparing yourself to thin air?”
“Hehe,” said Murong Yuchen’s alter ego.
“This place isn’t small—it’s actually pretty big,” Qiao Yitong said. “If I really did open a counseling practice, I wouldn’t necessarily come by often anyway. With a computer, I can send emails. A lot of people who seek relationship counseling prefer to stay anonymous rather than sit in a cold, impersonal office. They don’t want others to see them—how could people like that possibly have relationship problems?”
“Oh?” said Murong Yuchen’s alter ego. “Then they really are ashamed to show their faces. If you set up an office, you’ll get to meet plenty of jerks.”
Relationship counseling isn’t limited to women; men might also seek counseling for emotional issues.
At a glance, Murong Yuchen’s primary and secondary personalities could tell that Qiao Yitong was out to make money off the wealthy. Where would ordinary people even get so many relationship problems? If they really had issues, talking it out with a friend would be enough—why would they spend money on counseling? Then there were those whose minds were consumed by nothing but romance; they might also come to spend their money.
“Get to know a few more scumbags, and you’ll realize that only money will never betray you,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego said. “As it happens, I have plenty of money.”
If this were Murong Yuchen’s primary personality, he would certainly say this has little to do with money. The secondary personality looks down on the primary one; the primary personality believes in pure love, while the secondary personality thinks there isn’t much of that in the world—relationships between people are mostly about money and self-interest. Why would anyone do something that doesn’t benefit them?
“You’ve got it!” Qiao Yitong gave Murong Yuchen a thumbs-up.
“What kind of design are you looking for?” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego surveyed the area. How could such a small space possibly be renovated?
“Something cozy,” Qiao Yitong said. “Something that helps people relax and feel happy.”
“Impossible,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego said. “Anyone who comes to you for counseling is bound to be in a bad mood and deeply troubled. Since they can’t solve their problems, they certainly won’t be happy when they arrive. Even after you help them work through their issues, they won’t be completely relaxed when they leave—they’ll still be anxious. Heh, how happy could they possibly be?”
“You’ve got more quills than a hedgehog,” Qiao Yitong retorted sarcastically.
“A hedgehog’s belly doesn’t have quills,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego replied.
“You think of yourself as a cactus or a chestnut!” Qiao Yitong puffed out her cheeks.
“Once you remove the outer skin, there are no more spines,” Murong Yuchen’s alter ego explained. “That’s a scientific fact.”
Murong Yuchen’s primary and alter egos still had many similarities; they both understood some science and possessed basic common sense—they couldn’t possibly be completely different.
At the Qiao residence, Zhu Shanshan went to Qiao Xudong’s room again. She didn’t have many classes this semester anyway, and the thesis she needed to complete was almost finished. Zhu Shanshan looked at Qiao Xudong, then glanced at the male caregiver.
“What do I need to do? Teach me,” Zhu Shanshan said. “I’d like to help out a little, too.”
Zhu Shanshan didn’t want to feel helpless. The male nurse was competent, but she thought she could learn a thing or two herself. As she looked at Qiao Xudong lying motionless on the bed, a wave of sadness washed over her. The Qiao Xudong of the past had been so full of vigor and vitality—he shouldn’t be stuck in a hospital bed like this. He should wake up; he should be doing the things he wanted to do.
Even if Qiao Xudong didn’t recognize her as his fiancée after he woke up, Zhu Shanshan wouldn’t hold it against him. She believed that a man like Qiao Xudong, even if he didn’t acknowledge her, would certainly never treat her unfairly. Zhu Shanshan also reminded herself that all she’d ever wanted was a good job to earn money and buy a house. Now that her life was better than before, why should she worry about anything else?
“Well…” The caregiver hadn’t expected Zhu Shanshan to ask for instruction. Qiao Xudong was a man, and the family hadn’t asked him to teach her these things.
“I’m his fiancée!” Zhu Shanshan said. “Then teach me how to give him a massage. Since he isn’t walking, I need to massage his legs to prevent his leg muscles from atrophying, right?”