Chapter 23: The Question That Refused to Fade

Ruan Jing did not understand why she had so easily implicated Zhao Qiyan in front of her grandfather. Yet deep down, she knew she had only spoken the truth.

She pushed open the study door and stepped into the corridor. Just as she rounded the corner, a hand seized her wrist.

"I want to ask you a question."

Ruan Jing turned slightly. Though startled, she did not retreat. Her gaze remained steady. "Go on," she said.

What am I to you?

A faint crease appeared between her brows. Fatigue flickered through her clear eyes. "You don't need to care about my thoughts at all." Facing Jiang Yan always left her with a strange sense of helplessness.

You're wrong, I care.

She could not understand what he wanted. She tried to free her hand, but his grip held firm. "Jiang Yan, I've made it very clear before, we—are relatives."

He laughed, low and cold. "Ruan Jing is indeed free-spirited; her fickleness is truly beneath comparison."

"Can you please stop talking to me like that?" She inhaled slowly, forcing down the surge of irritation rising within her.

I think I've fallen in love with you.

Silence lingered between them. At last, she spoke, her voice drained of strength. "Jiang Yan, what exactly do you want from me?"

"Don't believe me?" He gave a half-smile, tinged with mockery toward himself. "Heh, I don't believe you either. I've been wondering what about you is worth my attention?"

He possessed an infuriating talent for wounding with precision. It had always been his way—merciless, sharp-edged. Though she hated to admit it, she had grown accustomed to it, even numb.

She slipped her hand free at last. Her tone cooled into clarity. "I don't believe it because I understand you, Jiang Yan. What you need is always success and fame to fill the inferiority and barrenness in your heart, never feelings. If this fact could be changed, then you wouldn't be Jiang Yan."

She stepped back, turned calmly, and walked toward her room. Her fingers rested on the doorknob before she added softly, "Don't do this again."

The corridor fell silent.

Jiang Yan leaned against the wall and let out a quiet laugh, eyes clouded with something indistinct and bittersweet. "Ruan Jing, how much do you really know about me?"

Inside her room, she pulled back the curtains and stood by the window for a long while before finally going into the bathroom, letting water wash the exhaustion from her skin.

The next day, under Chen Fan’s instruction, Ruan Jing left for a week-long assignment at the Jiangsu Art Museum. On the way, she sent Zhao Qiyan a message. His reply came quickly: " Have a safe trip."

She smiled faintly, locked her phone, and drifted into sleep.

Work progressed more smoothly than expected. She returned to N City ahead of schedule and gained two unexpected days of rest.

The following morning, she woke at ten and went downstairs—only to freeze in surprise.

Zhao Qiyan was sitting in her living room.

At that very moment, as though sensing her presence, he turned. Their eyes met midair, surprise mirrored in both.

"Hi." He rose, smiling.

"You—" She stopped when she noticed another figure beside him. Zhao Lin. "Uh—hello."

Ruan Xian emerged from the kitchen and grinned. "Oh, you're finally up."

Embarrassment crept up Ruan Jing’s neck. Sleeping until noon was hardly dignified. She poured herself a glass of milk and drank quietly.

"Jing, are you on a diet? You look even thinner than when we last met." Zhao Lin scrutinized her.

"No, I don't think so." Ruan Jing glanced at her loose clothing, mildly puzzled.

"She's naturally thin." Ruan Xian waved off the comment. "Thanks to Qi Yan's help today, otherwise the data on my computer would probably be beyond saving. I'll personally cook lunch to reward my benefactor."

Zhao Lin burst out laughing. "San San, you've already eliminated Qi Yan, why are you still being so attentive?"

Ruan Xian wiggled her fingers. "NO, NO, this isn't called being attentive, this is called sincerity."

Turning back to Zhao Qiyan, Zhao Lin sighed dramatically. "You really have no chance."

Qi Yan chuckled. "I think so."

"Heh, you were just kidding when you said you had someone to marry last time, right? Grandpa actually believed you, but I don't believe it at all."

"She and I—we've only just started dating."

As he said it, his gaze drifted—almost involuntarily—toward Ruan Jing. She remained calm, eating her toast as if nothing had been announced. He had acted first and informed her later; uncertainty stirred beneath his composure.

Yet his voice remained steady. Zhao Lin detected nothing.

From the kitchen doorway, Ruan Xian called, "A-Jing, could you go to the supermarket and buy me some tomato sauce and cornstarch? Oh, and steak, sesame seeds, lettuce, potatoes..."

Ruan Jing closed her eyes briefly. "Write me a note."

"OK, wait a minute."

Zhao Lin followed her into the kitchen. "What's all this lavish spending on?"

Zhao Qiyan moved to Ruan Jing’s side. Before he could speak, she lifted the last piece of toast to his lips.

"This is the last one, I can't finish it."

A ripple passed through him. Without thinking, he leaned forward and accepted it. When his lips brushed her fingers, instinctively, she opened her mouth slightly and looked up. Their gazes locked—something subtle and electric passing between them.

She cleared her throat and withdrew her hand. "San San, are you done writing?"

"Alright, alright." Ruan Xian handed over the list. "This is a matter of vital importance to people's livelihood. Go and come back quickly."

"I'll go with her," Zhao Qiyan added.

After brief hesitation, Ruan Xian agreed.

The moment they stepped outside the gate, Zhao Qiyan suddenly slipped an arm around her neck and bent to press a swift kiss to the corner of her lips.

She froze.

He had already released her. "I'll go get the car."

Watching his tall figure walk toward the garage, she touched her mouth unconsciously. "He really is the kind of person who will take ten steps forward for every one step he takes."

Zhao Qiyan knew without question that he was deeply, recklessly in love.

He waited for her calls each day, even the briefest exchanges enough to brighten him. He longed for time beside her. Even sitting quietly together stirred his heart.

But desire was not so easily dismissed.

Alone at night, recalling her eyes, her smile, the curve of her figure, heat would gather in his body. His hand would move of its own accord, imagination blurring the boundary between memory and longing. When release finally came, he would lie staring at the ceiling, breath uneven.

He knew he could not stop.

Yet how far would this go? Would it lead to happiness—or ruin? He did not dare imagine an ending, fearful that hope itself might shatter against reality.

Two days later, Xu Wei stopped by his shop after finishing a case.

"He really does have the air of someone who can win the world by winning the beauty."

Qi Yan set down his cup. "What brings you here today?"

"Let's see if you've been completely fooled by that woman."

His expression tightened. "Weiwei, this is my private matter. Also, please don't slander Ruan Jing, even if you are my friend."

Xu Wei looked wounded. "You're just going to defend her like this! She's so good at playing both sides. You haven't forgotten that Jiang Wei is still her boyfriend, have you?"

"I believe her. There's nothing between her and Jiang Wei. Besides, that was all in the past."

"Yesterday at noon, I went to Starbucks with some colleagues and saw her walking out hand in hand with Jiang Wei. They were so affectionate, and Jiang Wei was even holding a big bouquet of red roses."

Yesterday.

She had told him she was busy.

He did not argue. He pressed his palm to his forehead and fell silent.

Xu Wei’s smile turned bitter. "Do you, Zhao Qiyan, really need to compromise like this?"

"It's not about compromising, Weiwei, it's never about compromising."

It was Ruan Jing who had accommodated him. He was the one pursuing relentlessly.

He stared at his reflection in the dark surface of his coffee. Beneath the stillness in his eyes lay something colder—an edge of cruelty, tightly restrained.

He realized then that he could not tolerate even the smallest crack in what he believed.