On the way back, Beijiao drove while Jiang Ran still sat in the front passenger seat. The two middle-aged people sat in the back.
Zhang Lingling wasn’t talkative. From the moment she got into the car, she had been quietly gazing out the window, seemingly uninterested in conversation. However, the car wasn’t silent. Middle-aged men tend to become talkative, especially when they’re fond of the young man before them.
Jiang Huaimin had plenty to talk about with Beijiao, from his studies to his university life, and eventually his career expectations. When there was nothing more to say, he started discussing how troublesome Jiang Ran could be to take care of.
They discussed this topic the most enthusiastically, like two victims who had finally found a kindred spirit.
“She’s just someone with unpredictable moods. You’ll never figure out when she might suddenly get angry,” Jiang Huaimin said.
Beijiao, holding the steering wheel, slightly curved his lips without making a sound. When he felt a warning gaze from the side, he replied, “She’s not exactly known for her good temper.”
Jiang Ran took a deep breath, wanting to punch someone, her palms itching.
“There was once, not long after she had just gotten her driver’s license, when we went to the supermarket. On the way there, she insisted on driving to practice. Everything was going fine, no traffic jams or accidents ahead, but suddenly she pulled over to the side of the road and wanted to switch seats with me. Her reason? My breathing was too loud and annoying!”
Jiang Huaimin sighed, “She’s completely unreasonable! If she treats you the same way, I’m sorry. It might be a bad habit I’ve spoiled her into developing.”
Beijiao let out a soft chuckle.
He recalled the time when he decided to learn to drive and get his license—
That day, her period had unexpectedly started. Despite having skied all morning and being exhausted, she had to drive home in the afternoon while experiencing stomach pain. She angrily and self-righteously wanted to give up driving.
Although it was understandable, the beginning and end of the story were surprisingly similar to what Jiang Huaimin had described.
Of course, he couldn’t bring that up, so Beijiao could only laugh.
Beside him, Jiang Ran listened, initially reflecting on how humans always seem to bond by sitting down and gossiping about someone they both know. But as she listened further, something felt off—
Jiang Huaimin was happily badmouthing her, and that little brat was even laughing in agreement.
“So what if it’s just driving? Look how upset you two got. Isn’t that exactly what a driver’s license is for—to drive?” Jiang Ran said. “Why are you blaming me for this now?”
“Then why didn’t you drive to pick your dad up today?” Jiang Huaimin asked.
Jiang Ran: “…”
She had originally planned to drive!
Ask your precious stepson if he dares to say anything!
Jiang Ran barely restrained her eye-roll: “I was going to drive originally, but he said he wanted to drive, so I let him. You know how boys like playing with cars—”
She had just said it offhandedly.
At this moment, Zhang Lingling, who had been gazing out the window, turned her attention back and smiled along with Jiang Ran’s words: “That’s true, but what’s the use of liking something if he can’t even afford a car like this?”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough for everyone to hear.
“I bet he hasn’t driven a car since getting his license, right? Without a car to drive or the money to buy one, why waste money learning to drive? A driver’s license costs three to five thousand yuan. Back then, that was enough to feed him for half a year… Now he’s willing to waste that money? It must be because Huaimin is supporting him.”
She sweetly patted Jiang Huaimin’s arm. “Supporting him,” she referred to the 50,000 yuan from two years ago, which wasn’t even enough for Zhang Lingling to buy a single bag. No one else remembered it anymore, but she still cherished it.
Unbeknownst to her, that 50,000 yuan was still sitting in Jiang Ran’s bank account, earning pitiful interest and nearly growing to 55,000.
As Zhang Lingling finished speaking, an eerie silence settled in the car for a few seconds.
Jiang Ran instinctively reached for the handle on the door, fearing that the person beside her might suddenly slam on the brakes and send her flying out of the car—
However, after waiting a moment, nothing happened.
The driver steadily continued driving, as if he had suddenly gone deaf, maintaining a speed between 119 and 120 km/h, his foot on the accelerator as steady as if using cruise control.
He showed first-rate psychological resilience.
Jiang Ran blinked, somewhat surprised, and looked toward the driver’s seat. She saw that the driver’s face indeed showed no emotional fluctuations. One hand rested on the upper part of the steering wheel, the other loosely on the side, his eyes fixed straight ahead, his expression extremely calm.
Jiang Ran crossed her arms, silently sitting in the front passenger seat, lowering her gaze and dropping her relaxed tone. She lightly said, “He hasn’t driven since getting his license? Yet he’s driving pretty well now, isn’t he?”
Her voice broke the silence in the car, spreading a low-pressure atmosphere.
Zhang Lingling was taken aback, turning her head to look at Jiang Huaimin, who wasn’t even looking at her.
Jiang Ran lifted her chin, putting on her spoiled young miss attitude, and reached out to poke the driver’s strong arm. “I’m asking you something—have you driven before? Don’t tell me this is the first time you’ve driven since getting your license, and you took me on the highway just now?”
Her voice carried a hint of coquettishness.
Beijiao’s lips straightened, then after a few seconds, they relaxed, his eyes slightly narrowing. Without warning, he let out a mocking snort.
It was as if he had suddenly come back to life from a cold statue.
He lazily glanced at the woman in the front passenger seat, who was tilting her head up and staring at him with wide eyes. His gaze briefly brushed over her face, then effortlessly shifted away again, showing no fault in his reaction.
The young man’s tone was very calm: “Your life is valuable. How dare I not be careful?”
That sarcastic tone would probably lead to an argument with anyone else.
But Jiang Ran found it pleasant to hear—
Exactly! Shouldn’t he value her life more than his own? No problem at all.
Well said.
She silently curved her lips upward.
“Have you driven before?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a car?”
“No.”
“So you’re going to buy one?”
“I will.”
“Oh.”
Satisfied, she watched Zhang Lingling’s expression gradually shift from the rearview mirror. Jiang Ran felt the joy of turning the pages of a satisfying revenge story and reading it aloud to someone. Then she delivered her final question.
“You’re still in college, planning to buy a car? Where would you get the money? Don’t tell me you’re just dreaming?”
Beijiao cooperated with her, using a tone that implied “you talk too much and meddle too much”: “I can afford it.”
He wasn’t bragging. In the past two years, he had been rolling in snow, sharing accommodation, and spending the rest of his time either practicing skiing or attending classes. When his schedule allowed, he even took on another student’s part-time teaching job…
After two ski seasons, he had saved quite a bit of money—six figures for sure.
He could actually afford a more affordable Nissan.
Jiang Ran glanced at Zhang Lingling in the backseat, whose expression kept changing from red to white, looking like she wanted to ask Beijiao something but was too embarrassed to do so immediately, shifting forward and back restlessly…
Satisfied with her revenge story, Jiang Ran stopped talking.
Everything seemed pretty good.
If it weren’t for the uninformed Jiang Huaimin blurting out beside her: “Beijiao wants to buy a car? What car have you set your eyes on? Tell Uncle Jiang, and if there’s a shortage, I’ll help you out?”
Jiang Ran: “…”
Beijiao: “…”
She had forgotten there was still another person present, someone who had spent fifteen days in quarantine at a hotel, so long that his brain had rusted.
Jiang Ran: “Mr. Jiang, do you have too much money? If you do, give it to me.”
Jiang Huaimin: “Didn’t I just give you over ten million?”
Jiang Ran: “…”
Jiang Huaimin: “I just let you take over ten million. What’s wrong with giving your younger brother a few hundred thousand for a car? He is your brother. You can’t be selfish!”
Jiang Ran: “?”
He’s not my brother at all!
Beijiao looked confused: “What ten million?”
Jiang Ran: “…”
My prenuptial property, a little secret, my hidden savings!
How come I end up having my secret discovered after doing the right thing and speaking up for justice!
Jiang Ran couldn’t stop Jiang Huaimin from later sincerely telling Beijiao the whole story about the ten million. He even went so far as to detail the exact time and date when Jiang Ran had come into her fortune…
Beijiao simply said, “Oh.”
Jiang Ran felt his gaze sweep over her, briefly brushing over her legs exposed beneath her short skirt.
He probably didn’t even need to think to figure out that when the money came in, Jiang Ran had been lying beside him, or in his arms, blinking silently and accepting the bank transfer without mentioning it to him.
The more Beijiao listened, the more amusing he found it. Finally, he let out a mocking laugh.
Jiang Ran felt depressed.
When they got home, Beijiao took Jiang Huaimin’s suitcase out of the car, and Jiang Huaimin dragged it into the house.
Zhang Lingling had originally followed him, but as she stepped onto the porch, she suddenly stopped and looked back repeatedly between Jiang Ran and Beijiao before finally following him into the living room.
After parking the car in the garage, Beijiao took the car keys and went inside, just in time to see Jiang Ran slowly taking off her shoes in the entrance. From the living room, the voices of Jiang Huaimin and Zhang Lingling could be heard.
He casually put the car keys in his pocket, hands in his pockets, and walked forward.
The woman sat on a stool, pulling down the zipper of her tall boots, struggling with the complicated buckles on top. He leaned against the wall behind her and bent down.
Jiang Ran suddenly felt darkness envelop her as she was taking off her shoes.
She was startled but hadn’t had time to turn around when she suddenly felt warm breath on her ear. Then she felt her earlobe heat up as soft lips nibbled on it.
She let out a “Oh!” but quickly realized there were people in the house and hastily covered her mouth, glancing back nervously.
She saw the young man with black hair leaning against the wall, one hand on the wall beside her, the other in his pocket, tilting his head with a half-smile, looking down at her.
“What are you doing!”
She mouthed the question.
She saw the young brat’s smile become even clearer.
“Were you just standing up for me just now?”
He leaned close to her ear, lowering his voice.
Jiang Ran’s eyelashes fluttered, and she softly “hummed,” quickly glancing toward the living room—Jiang Huaimin’s voice was far away—but she still pushed away the face that was so close.
He was bold.
He leaned his head sideways, burying his face in her soft, fragrant palm that smelled of hand cream, and kissed it.
“I’m so moved.”
“…Tsk.”
“I forgive you.”
“Forgive me for what!”
“For hiding your secret savings,” Beijiao kicked off his shoes, took the car keys from his pocket, and casually placed them on the shoe cabinet in the entrance. “I forgive you.”
It was a while after Beijiao entered the living room that Jiang Ran finally realized—
That indifferent expression, saying “I forgive you”…
He didn’t care at all! Hmph!
…
To welcome Jiang Huaimin, Jiang Ran took out a cake from the fridge for dinner. She had ordered it the night before, and it was delivered along with the dinner takeout in the afternoon.
The dinner was from a Cantonese restaurant, chosen because she thought Jiang Huaimin must have missed local cuisine.
Jiang Ran’s home wasn’t bound by many rules, and there was no concept of dessert after dinner. Once dinner was served, she cut the cake—
The cake had a chocolate Dreamwave outer shell, with chestnut filling inside. When the knife cut through, the chocolate shell cracked, pure cocoa butter dark chocolate, with fresh, nutty bits scattering.
Jiang Ran remembered that the little brat liked sweets, so without thinking much, she scooped all the broken chocolate shell pieces into a plate and cut a large piece of cake to add in.
She casually used one hand to push the edge of the cake plate toward Beijiao, who was sitting beside her.
He raised his eyes but didn’t say thanks, just moved his hand on the table, about to take it—
Zhang Lingling’s voice interrupted: “He doesn’t like chocolate.”
Jiang Ran and Beijiao both paused, turning to look at the woman.
The latter sat across from them, her face showing an innocent expression as she blinked at her son: “I remember you don’t like sweets, right?
Then she turned to Jiang Ran and smiled, explaining, “Back when my cousin’s son had a birthday at Grandpa’s house, he wouldn’t even touch the cake. All the kids were clamoring for cake, but he wouldn’t say anything and just walked away, sitting far away.”
Jiang Ran moved her lips slightly but hadn’t had time to speak yet.
Jiang Huaimin, beside her, was somewhat surprised: “There are even kids who don’t like cake? When Jiang Ran was little, for her birthday, she had to choose three different flavors of cake, taking it to school to share with her classmates.”
Jiang Ran didn’t respond to her father’s words.
She supported herself with one hand on the table, glancing sideways to see that the person beside her had lifted his hand but now let it fall again. He had a cold expression, not saying whether he liked it or not.
It looked like he had no intention of commenting.
Or reaching for the piece of cake she had specifically cut for him.
In an instant, Jiang Ran understood why Zhang Lingling said he “didn’t like cake, never touching it even at his cousin’s birthday party.”
She suddenly felt quite unhappy.
… No, to be precise, extremely unhappy.
She vividly remembered placing the cake order, even asking the seller, “Which one is the sweetest?” The seller had been so confused they asked her why she was asking.
What had she said?
“There’s a kid at home who likes sweets.”
Jiang Ran didn’t love sweets that much herself. She occasionally had a piece of cake with afternoon tea…
It was clear who she had specially chosen this cake for.
So what was this lady talking about?
Her smile almost slipped, and she carelessly threw the dessert knife onto the cake. She dragged the heavy plate, overloaded with chocolate shells, and pushed it in front of Beijiao.
“Have some.”
She spoke in a single syllable, concise and to the point.
The atmosphere at the table was somewhat frozen.
Receiving no response, the woman, with a cold face, stubbornly pushed it closer.
“Forget it, Jiang Ran. Don’t force others to do something they don’t like,” Jiang Huaimin rubbed his stomach, assuming Bei Jiao’s current stiff expression meant she genuinely disliked sweets. He immediately stepped in to mediate, “Ah Jiao, if you don’t like sweet food, then have some fish maw chicken soup. The Spring Wind Restaurant must be in a generous mood today—the fish maw they used was quite generous—”
“If you don’t like it, just taste it and put it down,” Zhang Lingling said, “Your sister already cut it for you, so you should be polite.”
In this house, she, Zhang Lingling, feared no one, but only when speaking to Bei Jiao could she assume an authoritative parental tone, looking down from above.
Bei Jiao finally reacted at this point, but he didn’t even glance at Zhang Lingling, instead staring directly at Jiang Ran.
The latter’s gaze was sharp and intense.
As if, should he dare to refuse, she would slap the cake straight onto his face.
Bei Jiao remained silent for a moment, thinking that at least one thing Zhang Lingling said was correct—since his sister had cut it, of course, he would be polite.
Therefore, he moved the heavy tray of cake toward himself and, in a calm voice meant to pacify, said, “After dinner.”
Meaning, he would eat it after dinner.
This was his way of responding to Jiang Ran.
Only then did Jiang Ran back off. She then proceeded to distribute cake to Jiang Huaimin and Zhang Lingling in turn, finally cutting a small piece for herself with reserved grace. Slowly finishing it, she then served herself a bowl of chicken soup.
The meal dragged on extremely slowly. Jiang Ran was somewhat distracted. Every time her gaze fell on the uneaten cake sitting in the corner, her mood soured, and she lost her appetite.
When clearing the table later, Bei Jiao’s cake plate was empty, leaving only a few chocolate crumbs.
Standing aside, Jiang Ran watched him load the dishes into the dishwasher.
Staring at him for a while, she thought again of Cinderella—
Wasn’t that exactly who he was?
Cooking, washing dishes, and constantly being the scapegoat.
The only thing missing was eating while holding a plate and going up to the attic to eat alone.
“My mom told you to cut some fruit and bring it to the living room,” she said, clearly annoyed.
“Okay, in a moment,” Bei Jiao reached out to arrange the dishes in the dishwasher, “Check the fridge and see what you want to eat?”
“…”
Jiang Ran’s temper flared for no apparent reason.
Taking a deep breath, she waited until Bei Jiao looked up, only catching sight of her stomping away.
He tilted his head, seemingly thinking about something, then gave a faint, emotionless chuckle. He turned his gaze away, closed the dishwasher door, and pressed the start button.
The dishwasher rumbled into operation.
…
After dinner, Jiang Huaimin sat with Zhang Lingling, while Jiang Ran, with a cold expression, hugged her knees. The three occupied two sofas, watching TV.
The TV wasn’t particularly interesting, but since father and daughter hadn’t seen each other in a long time, they needed to chat about something and nothing. Jiang Huaimin asked her about the training team, finally sighing, expressing his support and happiness that she had joined.
Jiang Ran thought he was referring to her finally overcoming her emotional trauma regarding Lin Shuang, so she softly “hmm”ed through her nose, about to feel emotional…
Only to hear Jiang Huaimin say, “Otherwise, you’d just be an unemployed layabout sleeping until noon every day. I really worry you won’t get married, and I’d be too embarrassed to recommend you for blind dates.”
Jiang Ran: “…”
The tears that had welled up in her eyes immediately receded.
Jiang Huaimin: “Are you planning to date anyone?”
Jiang Ran: “Why should I tell you?”
Jiang Huaimin: “You’re practically thirty already. Have you even dated one boyfriend? Before, I hoped Li Xingnan or Huang Can would work out, but Lin Shuang and Qiu Nian took them both away—you didn’t get even one—”
Jiang Ran: “Did they split the cake? Weren’t there two of them, one each!”
Jiang Huaimin: “What do you mean one each… Be honest with your dad, do you like women? Say it—I’m old enough, I can handle it.”
Jiang Ran: “…”
“In the middle of a chat?”
A pleasant male voice sounded as Bei Jiao entered the living room carrying a fruit tray.
“What about liking women?”
The coffee table sat in the middle of the three sofas. Jiang Ran crouched on the single sofa on the right. Bei Jiao’s fruit tray unobtrusively landed in front of her instead of the center of the coffee table… She leaned forward and saw that it was all her favorite fruits—mangoes cut into small cubes, peeled rambutans sitting plump and white in the tray, and washed green grapes.
Jiang Huaimin grumbled, “Talking about how old your Xiao Ran sister is and how she still hasn’t had a boyfriend—”
Bei Jiao raised his eyes to glance at her. The previously composed Jiang Ran suddenly blushed, “Dad! What are you saying in front of him!”
Bei Jiao straightened up, smiling gently, “It’s fine.”
Jiang Ran: “…”
“Uncle Jiang, Mom, you two rest first,” the black-haired young man’s politeness was impeccable, “I’m going upstairs to wash up.”
Jiang Huaimin told him to go ahead, “You’ve had a long day today. Tomorrow you don’t need to do chores like washing dishes or cutting fruit—I’ve already contacted a housekeeper.”
Actually, the housekeeper could have come today if they paid a little extra, but Zhang Lingling stopped it, saying there was no need. With a dishwasher at home, Bei Jiao only needed to load or unload dishes—what kind of work was that? Why spend such unnecessary money?
Jiang Huaimin disliked listening to her calculate such petty things finger by finger, so he gave up arguing with her, hence today’s sight of Bei Jiao busily going back and forth.
Jiang Ran sat on the sofa, staring blankly at her toes until she heard Bei Jiao say, “Sister, I’m going upstairs.”
She lifted her head somewhat dazedly, meeting his dark, deep gaze.
Moist and seemingly harmless.
Yet no one knew better than Jiang Ran that the owner of those eyes was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
He had stared at her like this today, except he didn’t call her “sister.” When had he ever obediently called her “sister”? He only did so when he wanted something.
That low, husky voice, saturated with desire, would only whisper in her ear, calling her “Ran Ran,” kissing her earlobe, holding her waist, pinning her in the car until her legs trembled and she couldn’t drive.
Now, under his gaze, she instinctively tensed her lower abdomen, a rush of heat pooling there. She clenched her legs tightly, trying not to let anyone notice.
“Go ahead,” she said, her pupils constricted, her voice slightly tense, “Good night.”
…
After Bei Jiao left.
Jiang Ran half-heartedly accompanied her father through a legal program following the news broadcast, frequently checking her phone in between, unfortunately seeing no WeChat messages.
She bit her lower lip, lifting her gaze toward the second floor.
Their house had four floors excluding the basement. The first floor was public areas and the servant’s quarters; the second floor was Jiang Ran’s room and guest rooms; the third floor was Jiang Huaimin’s expansive master suite; and the fourth floor was a sunny gym.
The second floor had six rooms total, with the stairs on the far left. Jiang Ran’s room was the last one on the right after ascending the stairs—the largest and most spacious.
In the morning, Bei Jiao had moved his belongings from Jiang Ran’s room into the second room. The location of the second room was particularly clever—it was just a few steps up the stairs, blocked by a wall. The living room couldn’t see it, but Jiang Ran had to pass right in front of his room door when returning to her room.
Right now, the second-floor corridor was quiet. Jiang Ran couldn’t figure out what mischief that dog was plotting behind his closed door—
It was truly like keeping a large dog, feeling uneasy every time before coming home, fearing that the dog might disappear without wagging its tail to greet her… Usually, these were signs of having done something bad and fleeing in guilt.
Turning on the lights and searching the room, one would surely find a cabinet door torn off or, worse, the baseboard chewed halfway through.
Like waiting for the lottery results, she couldn’t guess what awaited her, but she knew there definitely was something.
The more she thought, the more uneasy she felt.
“I’m going upstairs to shower too,” Jiang Ran could no longer sit still, “I got up early today to pick someone up from the airport. I’m really tired.”
Jiang Huaimin looked at his daughter. Indeed, there were faint dark circles under her eyes, and her eyelids drooped—clear signs of sleep deprivation.
She looked less energetic than even him, a middle-aged man.
He waved his hand, his face full of disdain: “It’s not like you were driving. Why are you acting so tired—”
Indeed, she was exhausted.
Jiang Ran thought expressionlessly but still politely said good night to the two elders before slowly heading upstairs.
Her heartbeat quickened as she stepped onto the first stair, deliberately stomping her feet, as if afraid no one would notice her climbing up.
Standing in the middle of the staircase, she cleared her throat.
Facing the row of darkened rooms on the second floor, her own room door was wide open, while Bei Jiao’s remained tightly shut.
She pursed her lips, straightened her back, and walked forward with her head held high.
Passing the first room, she was about to reach Bei Jiao’s door, but the door remained motionless.
Jiang Ran stood tall, calmly contemplating what plausible excuse she might use to knock on the door, when suddenly, the door opened from inside.
A strong arm extended from within—clad only in a tank top, the muscular limb looked powerful, the hand accurately grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the room.
With a “slap,” the door shut.
Except for Jiang Ran, the eldest daughter of the Jiang family, who had vanished into the corridor without returning to her room, everything in the corridor remained eerily calm, as if nothing had happened.
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