After Lu Yicheng brought Lu Siyan out of the restroom and back into the main hall, Jiang Yan had already carried Lin Kexing’s suitcase upstairs.

The owner was still busy with lunch and had let them know it would be another half hour or so.

They had all been sitting in the car for quite a while and were tired, so everyone went back to their own rooms to rest. Jiang Ruoqiao had just opened her suitcase when her three roommates came back from outside. Every one of them was sunburned red in the face, but their spirits were high. “This trip was absolutely worth it. That vegetable garden is exactly like my grandma’s back home. The tomatoes we just picked — they actually taste like tomatoes. Everything in supermarkets these days has no flavor whatsoever!”

The four girls had two rooms between them.

The two rooms were right next to each other.

All three girls came to Jiang Ruoqiao’s room now. They hadn’t seen each other in almost an entire summer break, so the four of them together were immediately lively and chattering.

The four of them were very close as roommates. Even over the holidays, their group chat was filled with endless conversation every day.

Yun Jia and Jiang Ruoqiao had the closest relationship among them.

They were sharing a room this time as well. Yun Jia was always direct and straightforward. She sat on her bed — the smaller single — looked at Jiang Ruoqiao, and said: “Word is Jiang Yan brought some girl he calls his little sister along. She just turned eighteen, is that right?”

Jiang Ruoqiao finished securing her suitcase and gave an indifferent nod. “That’s the story.”

Yun Jia let out a curse under her breath.

“Today Du Yu drove, and we three were in the back seat. We heard him on a call with Jiang Yan.” Yun Jia explained. “Du Yu mentioned that Jiang Yan also took his so-called little sister along to some gaming sessions to boost his rank, and with some persistent pressure from the three of us, Du Yu basically spilled everything — including that the two of them went to the island together!”

Another roommate — a girl with short hair who pushed her glasses up her nose — said: “Is Jiang Yan trying to break up or something? What kind of person does this — bringing this girl along on a trip? And honestly, what is wrong with these men, always wanting to claim little sisters everywhere they go? Did they not have anyone in their own family growing up?”

“Luo Wen makes a fair point,” Yun Jia replied. “Personally I don’t think Jiang Yan is trying to break up — I just think he lacks sense.”

The third girl let out a derisive laugh. “Lacks sense — right. Let me ask you this: if Ruoqiao went and adopted some kind of ‘big brother’ figure, do you think Jiang Yan would be this unbothered?”

Their conversation drifted steadily off course from there. They were all united in condemning how utterly reprehensible it was for men to go around claiming little sisters.

Jiang Ruoqiao reached into her small bag, pulled out a hair tie, and swept her hair back into a neat bundle.

“Enough about that.” Her tone was perfectly calm. “Let’s enjoy the next two days and sort everything out afterward.”

The other three exchanged a glance.

They had all been living together for two years now — practically eating and sleeping under the same roof, doing everything together, and they knew each other well.

Jiang Ruoqiao’s attitude was far from normal.

In matters of the heart, Jiang Ruoqiao had always been particular. For her, Jiang Yan’s behavior of this sort should have provoked a reaction long before today. And maybe that’s how girls worked — if she was upset and said so and made a scene, that meant she still cared. If she was perfectly quiet with not a word of complaint, it meant she was already quietly planning her exit.

It was obvious: Jiang Ruoqiao wanted out.

That was understandable. Jiang Ruoqiao was simply not someone who let herself be wronged. She wouldn’t put herself through it, and she certainly wouldn’t let anyone put her through it either.

Jiang Yan’s behavior had landed squarely on every possible landmine.

Never mind Jiang Ruoqiao — what girl alive could accept a boyfriend who had a “little sister” like this in his life?

Since Jiang Ruoqiao had already made up her mind, the three of them saw no point in bringing Jiang Yan up again. They had originally been planning to use this trip as an opportunity to interrogate him properly…

As for the boys, the four of them had also been split into two rooms.

Jiang Yan and Lu Yicheng shared one room.

Du Yu and Wang Jiangfeng shared the other.

Originally everyone had been looking forward to this farmstay, but Lin Kexing’s arrival had put a subtle damper on the mood — not just among the girls, but on the boys’ side too. Du Yu had a thing for Yun Jia — it was an open secret. Yun Jia and Jiang Ruoqiao were close, so naturally Du Yu had some grievances about Jiang Yan’s decision. He thought Jiang Yan had been pretty inconsiderate, and was now airing his frustrations without holding back: “Is Jiang Yan out of his mind or what? Why drag his so-called little sister along? If it were an actual blood-related little sister, fine, but…”

Wang Jiangfeng sat on the bed smiling without comment.

“I was planning to use this trip to finally confess to Yun Jia,” Du Yu said, deflated. “But the way I see it, with that brilliant move of Jiang Yan’s, this whole place is about to turn into a complete disaster zone — so what’s the point of confessing now!”

“And Jiang Yan — what’s he thinking,” Du Yu kept going. “He’s clearly in a relationship, and he’s gone and claimed himself a little sister. Even I, a straightforward person, know this kind of behavior is asking for trouble. But him? Absolutely fearless — brings the girl right in front of his girlfriend. I think he has a death wish.”

Wang Jiangfeng paid him no attention. He was busy doing something on his own — calculating, by the look of it.

Since last semester, this person had taken a sudden turn and plunged headfirst into the world of divination and mysticism, never to resurface.

“Say something,” Du Yu said.

Wang Jiangfeng spoke with the air of a prophet: “Put the confession on hold. I just cast a reading, and it was not a favorable one.”

Du Yu: “…”

“Are you serious?! Stop jinxing things!” Du Yu said. “Do you know that what you just said is exactly how every horror film opens?!”

Wang Jiangfeng maintained his solemn expression. “I’m serious. It says something major is about to happen.”

Du Yu: “…”

Terrible. Absolutely terrible.

“Get out of here! Stop spreading this superstitious nonsense!!”

The owner came upstairs to let them know that lunch was ready.

Jiang Yan, being the organized type, went to knock on each door in turn. Lin Kexing had changed into a new outfit and opened the door to find Jiang Yan standing outside. “Time to go down for lunch.”

Lin Kexing gave a small sound of agreement. Just as Jiang Yan turned to head up to the third floor, she called out to him, hesitating: “Brother Jiang Yan, there’s something I want to mention — when we stopped and got out of the car earlier, when Sister Jiang and I were getting the blanket, she might have seen the tag still on my suitcase. Did you tell her we were all on the island together?”

Jiang Yan looked at her in surprise, then clapped a hand to his forehead.

That reaction said it all — he hadn’t told Jiang Ruoqiao.

Lin Kexing’s feelings were tangled and hard to name. She pressed her lips together. “I think you should tell her. It would be better to clear it up before she gets the wrong idea. And also…”

She trailed off, looking uncertain.

“What?” Jiang Yan asked.

“And also…” Lin Kexing said, her voice faltering as she came to this part, her eyes stinging with tears she was working hard to hold back, “I’ve had the feeling that your friends aren’t particularly happy to have me here. Brother Jiang Yan, I thought about it, and it’s true that I don’t know any of them. This trip was something you all planned a long time ago, and I just suddenly got added in — they probably all find it a bit strange. I don’t want to ruin everyone’s enjoyment. Would it be alright if I asked Uncle Yang to come and pick me up?”

Lin Kexing had never had any intention of getting in the way of Jiang Yan and Jiang Ruoqiao.

She didn’t even know herself why she had come.

Jiang Yan looked at Lin Kexing — her fingers picking unconsciously at the door frame, her expression quiet and forlorn — and let out a long breath. “What are you thinking? You’re overthinking it. My friends are all good people — they just don’t know you yet, so they’re a bit reserved. A couple of days together will fix that. Besides, you’re already here — if you leave now, they’ll feel bad about it too. Both your mom and mine know you came out here to clear your head. You arrive in the morning and leave the same afternoon — won’t they just worry about you even more?”

Lin Kexing said nothing.

Jiang Yan reached out and patted her gently on the shoulder. “Stop moping — you’re only eighteen. Don’t overthink things.”

Lin Kexing blinked back the tears she had been holding at bay and gave a quiet nod. “Alright.”

“Good.” Jiang Yan said. “Whether it’s my friends or Ruoqiao and the others, they’re all genuinely lovely people. Don’t go getting the wrong idea. Alright — I’m going to get the others for lunch. One meal together and everything will be fine.”

Lin Kexing’s mood was something Jiang Yan genuinely paid attention to.

He felt that she was his guest, and younger than all of them — it was only natural to look after her and be considerate.

At lunch, he made a point of coming downstairs with her and had her sit beside him.

Jiang Ruoqiao remained entirely unruffled. She knew the original story — she knew the history and ties between these two. They had known each other for over a decade, and their bond ran deep. How long had she known Jiang Yan? If she were being frank about it, even without the original novel’s plot, Jiang Yan and Lin Kexing were simply destined to find each other eventually.

The Jiang family had received a great deal of care and support from the Lin family over the years. Jiang Yan was not someone who forgot his debts of gratitude. Wherever Lin Kexing needed him, he would step forward.

And Lin Kexing’s feelings for Jiang Yan had grown to something close to fixation.

It made sense, really. She had quietly carried this love for so many years — it wasn’t the kind of thing you could simply set down and walk away from. Her devotion to Jiang Yan was total, unwavering, and deep as the sea.

Seen that way, Jiang Ruoqiao herself was in truth the obtrusive female side-character standing in the path of their beautiful love story.

Well — this side character was hereby requesting an early exit from the story.

Jiang Ruoqiao’s phone vibrated.

She checked it. It was a message in their dormitory group chat.

Luo Wen: [A man who won’t uphold his integrity as a boyfriend doesn’t deserve our dormitory’s finest!!]

Yun Jia: [I second the motion!! If it weren’t so gorgeous here, I’d genuinely be tempted to just leave.]

Gao Jingjing: [No, no, we paid for this. We came all the way here. Let’s not waste it.]

Jiang Ruoqiao let out a quiet laugh.

Lu Siyan was seated to her left. He leaned in trying to look.

Jiang Ruoqiao locked her screen. “Adult matters. Not for little eyes.”

Lu Siyan pouted, then seemed to remember something and whispered: “I have something really important to tell you later. Really important. The most important thing in the world.”

Jiang Ruoqiao: “You’ve got my full attention already.”

As for the dynamic between the two of them — just as Lu Yicheng had predicted, not a single person had any suspicions. Jiang Yan included.

And in all honesty, who would? No one would believe Jiang Ruoqiao had a child that big.

Everyone simply assumed Lu Siyan had taken a particular liking to her.

The owner had prepared a generous spread of dishes.

They had all been hungry for a while, and everyone’s attention was thoroughly absorbed by the food.

Jiang Ruoqiao was the exception.

From a platter of braised chicken, she reached over to take a drumstick to place in Lu Siyan’s bowl.

At the exact same moment, Lu Yicheng’s chopsticks extended toward the same piece.

The two of them had moved in perfect unison.

Jiang Ruoqiao: “…”

Lu Yicheng: “…”

Both drumsticks ended up in Lu Siyan’s bowl.

After lunch, Lu Siyan didn’t find an opportunity to share that extremely important thing with Jiang Ruoqiao, because Jiang Yan pulled her aside for a frank talk.

Jiang Yan knew Jiang Ruoqiao didn’t like being in the sun, so he had specifically found a shaded spot.

Setting aside everything else, in his day-to-day behavior, he was a faultless boyfriend.

He fanned her with a palm-leaf fan with one hand while shielding her from the sun with his body. He himself was drenched in sweat.

Jiang Ruoqiao stayed cool and comfortable.

Jiang Yan had genuinely missed her. Over a month without seeing her — they were both slightly awkward around each other, as if some invisible distance had grown between them. He was frustrated with himself too. Why was there even a summer break? Right before the holidays, the two of them had been close and easy with each other. Now, after more than a month apart, it felt almost like the very beginning again.

He truly liked her.

Which was exactly why he didn’t dare presume anything.

“Ruoqiao, there’s something I want to explain,” Jiang Yan said, then laughed. “Actually, ‘come clean’ is more like it — and hope you’ll forgive me.”

“A while back when I went to the island, I was going with my mom. And my mom was going to keep Lin Auntie company.” Jiang Yan explained. “Lin Auntie is a long-time friend of my mom’s — and my mom is also her personal assistant. I hadn’t planned on going to the island, but my mom saw I was free and said it wasn’t easy for a group of women to manage the trip without a driver. I couldn’t say no, so I agreed. Kexing is Lin Auntie’s daughter, which is why she was also on the island. I’m sorry — I should have told you.”

But as Jiang Ruoqiao listened, she caught something in what he said — a scent of something different.

Something odd.

The overall tone of the novel was sweet, yet there had always been places that struck her as subtly wrong.

She thought for a moment, and asked: “And this time?”

Jiang Yan saw she seemed fairly calm, not visibly upset, and relaxed slightly. He carefully explained: “My mom knew both our dormitories were going up into the mountains. She asked me to bring Kexing along because she hadn’t been in a good headspace lately. My mom has watched Kexing grow up and thinks of her like her own daughter, which is why I’d joke that she was my little sister.”

That much was true.

In the original story, Jiang Yan’s mother was portrayed as a deeply admirable character — practically a model mother-in-law. She was devoted to Lin Kexing, looking after her in every detail. Whenever Lin Kexing and Jiang Yan had a disagreement, his mother always stood on Lin Kexing’s side. After their marriage, she never threw her weight around as an elder, never interfered in their lives, and certainly never pressured them about having children. When even Lin Auntie brought up the subject, Jiang Yan’s mother would dismiss it protectively, saying Kexing was still young and that children could wait a few more years. When oblivious women tried to get close to Jiang Yan, Jiang Yan’s mother would handle it before Lin Kexing even knew what was happening, and she would remind her son sternly not to mistreat Kexing.

In short, Jiang Yan’s mother was the quintessential element of this sweet novel — the mother-in-law who might as well be a birth mother.

So why did something about her feel so strangely off?

Jiang Ruoqiao’s expression shifted to something lighter and more relaxed, as though Jiang Yan’s explanation had satisfied her. She asked, with apparent casualness: “So your mom knows about us?”

Jiang Yan said with a quiet laugh: “Of course — I told her as soon as we made it official. She really likes you.”

Jiang Ruoqiao’s mouth curved slightly.

Well. How very interesting.

There it was — the source of her unease.

It was with his mother.

Jiang Ruoqiao genuinely found Jiang Yan’s mother strange.

In the novel, Jiang Yan’s mother — the male lead’s birth mother, the female lead’s future mother-in-law — had been beyond reproach in every way she conducted herself. She was gentle and fair, never taking her son’s side blindly, and was endlessly devoted to the female lead. By comparison, she seemed more like a birth mother to the female lead than an in-law.

Jiang Yan’s mother didn’t have a great deal of page time in the original story, which was why Jiang Ruoqiao hadn’t initially noticed anything suspicious. But now, thinking back, there were inconsistencies everywhere.

For instance — if she were truly the person her characterization suggested, why would she, knowing her son already had a girlfriend, arrange for him to accompany her to the island? The surface explanation was that Jiang Yan would serve as their driver — but a woman of Lin Auntie’s standing, once she arrived on the island, would hardly be short of drivers. That rationale could just barely be explained away by “wanting her son to get out and have fun.” But what about this time?

Jiang Yan’s mother could not possibly have been unaware that this farmstay trip had been planned in advance by the two dormitories together. Yet she specifically asked Jiang Yan to bring Lin Kexing along — and however Jiang Ruoqiao turned it over in her mind, it seemed bizarre. Would any mother actually do that? Knowing her son’s girlfriend would be there, knowing it was an outing already organized among his dormitory friends, she deliberately sends him off with another woman in tow — wasn’t she worried her son’s girlfriend might suspect something? Wasn’t she worried it would create tension between her son and his girlfriend?

No. She wasn’t worried.

Jiang Ruoqiao wasn’t afraid of thinking the worst.

What she was more afraid of was assuming good intentions in someone who was working toward a very different goal.

Could there be a possibility here?

Jiang Ruoqiao looked at Jiang Yan. A suspicion had formed in her mind: perhaps Jiang Yan’s mother wanted Lin Kexing and her son to be together.

If that was the assumption, every single inconsistency suddenly had a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Some of Jiang Yan’s mother’s behaviors began to make sense at last.

After all — what was Lin Kexing? She was the eldest daughter of the Lin family’s jewelry empire. Even if control of the company now rested with her two half-brothers from her father’s other marriage, who in the family would ever shortchange her? From the moment of Lin Kexing’s birth, a smooth and comfortable future was guaranteed. The funds, stocks, and property already in her name were enough to sustain several lifetimes. What’s more, Lin Jewelry remained a leader in the industry — Lin Kexing’s identity alone signified connections and resources.

As the saying goes: whether a good marriage is made or a good match is found, it can spare someone twenty years of struggle.

Everything that Jiang Yan gained from being with Lin Kexing was laid out clearly enough in the original novel, wasn’t it?

No one would understand better than Jiang Yan’s own mother just how bright a future awaited her son if he were with Lin Kexing.

Jiang Yan noticed that Jiang Ruoqiao’s expression had gone slightly strange.

One moment she was looking at him, the next she was looking down at the stone paving beneath her feet.

Worried she was upset, he simply reached out and took her hand, then said with great sincerity: “It won’t happen again. Next time — whoever I’m bringing, whoever I’m going somewhere with — I’ll report in to you first.”

Jiang Ruoqiao withdrew her hand without drawing attention to it and asked, as if on a whim: “I’ve actually never heard you mention your mom much before. Have she and Lin Auntie been close friends for a long time?”

Jiang Yan saw that she seemed genuinely curious, and felt his chest ease a little. His expression relaxed. “Mm — they were university classmates, same dormitory even. They’ve always been very close.”

Jiang Ruoqiao lowered her head in quiet thought. Interesting.

Close friends, university classmates and dormitory mates — and yet one of them was now working as the other’s assistant.

They had gone from equals to employer and subordinate. Could their feelings about that really be so uncomplicated?

She continued asking naturally: “They say sons take after their mothers. Your mom must have been beautiful when she was young?”

Jiang Yan laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re too clever for your own good — but you got that one right. My mom was the department beauty in her day — talented at everything, excellent grades and good looks too. All the teachers adored her.”

Jiang Ruoqiao considered this. Jiang Yan’s mother must be in her mid-forties by now.

University graduates from that era were genuinely uncommon.

Jiang Ruoqiao gave a quiet sound of acknowledgment. “And Lin Auntie?”

The two of them chatted like old friends, and Jiang Yan didn’t detect for a moment that Jiang Ruoqiao was gently drawing information out of him. He thought back. “My mom doesn’t talk about the old days that often, but Lin Auntie mentioned once that she was fairly ordinary and unremarkable as a student. Lin Auntie is a wonderful person — she’s looked after my mom and me tremendously over all these years.”

Jiang Ruoqiao pressed her lips into a quiet smile.

The picture was getting clearer by the moment, wasn’t it?

The original novel had given a fairly thorough account of the male lead’s family background and upbringing.

The catastrophic change to his family had come when he was only ten years old — but a ten-year-old child already understands the world. The male lead had struggled enormously with the adjustment, and it had taken him years to emerge from the shadow that the upheaval had cast. So what about his mother?

And beyond that — even setting the novel aside — Lin Kexing’s feelings for Jiang Yan were plain to see from the outside. Had Jiang Yan’s mother truly not noticed? Why had she simply allowed things to continue — or rather, gone out of her way to manufacture opportunities for Jiang Yan and Lin Kexing to be together?

The writing on the wall was plain enough for anyone to read.

Jiang Yan saw that Jiang Ruoqiao had gone quiet, and asked hesitantly: “Are you really bothered that I brought Kexing along?”

Jiang Ruoqiao turned the question back on him: “What does it matter whether I’m bothered or not?”

In the original novel — and based on what she had observed in reality — Jiang Yan genuinely didn’t know about Lin Kexing’s feelings for him.

Was he simply that oblivious?

In asking this question, he was clearly hoping she wouldn’t be bothered. This sort of thing — who could honestly not be bothered by it?

Jiang Yan was indeed stopped cold by the question. He fell silent for more than ten seconds, completely failing to notice someone standing just around the corner not far away. Jiang Ruoqiao had noticed — a soft pink hem just visible, the pale pink sundress Lin Kexing had been wearing all day.

Jiang Yan finally spoke. His voice was low. “If you are bothered by it, I won’t bring her next time.”

Jiang Ruoqiao found herself realizing she really did have the makings of a proper scheming villainess. She pressed him: “But didn’t you say your family has received a great deal of kindness and support from hers? What will you do when your mom asks you to bring her again?”

Jiang Yan, in his heart, couldn’t actually understand why Jiang Ruoqiao should be bothered by Lin Kexing.

He and Lin Kexing had practically grown up together — their bond was as close as siblings.

He liked Ruoqiao and didn’t want to get into a fight over this. They had already gone over a month without seeing each other — it wasn’t worth arguing over something like this. He’d take it slowly with her, explain things over time, and he was confident she would come to understand.

This was the reasoning many men fell into.

Inwardly they thought one thing; outwardly they said whatever would satisfy their girlfriend, all while privately thinking: I’ll bring her around to my way of thinking eventually.

Jiang Yan was doing exactly that right now. The impulse to placate her had taken hold, and he smiled. “I’ll just say no. Don’t worry — I won’t let you be unhappy. Your happiness is what matters most.”

Jiang Ruoqiao thought: men’s words, toilet water.

She didn’t take a single word of it to heart.

But Lin Kexing, standing around that corner, had taken every word in. She leaned against the wall, barely holding herself together, eyes burning.

Lin Kexing had come out looking for Jiang Yan, only to accidentally overhear his conversation with Jiang Ruoqiao.

This was the first time she had ever witnessed Jiang Yan alone with Jiang Ruoqiao.

And the first time she had ever seen Jiang Yan come close to humbling himself to coax someone.

Her heart felt like it had been seized in a fist and squeezed tighter and tighter, until there was almost no room left to breathe. She fled like she was running from something, found a quiet corner, and stood there staring blankly at the surface of the lake.

Then her phone rang.

It was a call from Jiang Yan’s mother.

She hesitated for a moment, then made a deliberate effort to steady herself before answering, her voice as even as always. “Auntie.”

Jiang Yan’s mother had spent ten years watching Lin Kexing grow up. She had invested no small effort in Lin Kexing — it would be fair to say she understood Lin Kexing better than Lin Kexing’s own mother did. From those two words alone, Jiang Yan’s mother could tell that something was wrong with Lin Kexing’s mood.

She guessed Yan and his girlfriend must have said or done something that had unsettled Kexing.

She knew, but this wasn’t the moment to say so. Instead, she asked warmly: “Is it hot over there? How’s the food? Are you adjusting alright?”

Hearing Jiang Yan’s mother’s warmth, Lin Kexing’s nose stung sharply. She nearly let the tears fall. She held herself together. Still maintaining her usual composure, she replied: “Not hot at all, everything’s lovely here.”

Jiang Yan’s mother gave a quiet sound of acknowledgment, then ventured: “And… have you met Yan’s girlfriend yet? What’s she like?”

Lin Kexing paused. A long silence passed before she answered honestly, from the heart: “I have. She’s… she’s wonderful. Very beautiful, and she seems very easy with everyone here.”

“Is she?” Jiang Yan’s mother let out a sigh. “I don’t know why, but I’ve always had this feeling they won’t make it to the end. So I haven’t quite known how to treat this girlfriend of his — whether it’s better to meet her, or better not to. I just don’t know.”

Lin Kexing said quietly, “They seem very happy together.”

The feelings were real on both sides.

She could see that clearly. Jiang Yan genuinely liked Jiang Ruoqiao.

After today, she supposed she could let go at last.

She had seen a side of him today she had never seen before.

A side of Jiang Yan that Lin Kexing would never see directed at herself — not in a lifetime.

She really ought to let go. Before, when her mother had wanted her to go abroad for studies and she’d resisted, there had been a small, shameful corner of her heart that had felt something like quiet relief. What exactly she had been relieved about, she couldn’t quite say.

But people have to do what is right.

Hadn’t Jiang Yan’s answer today made everything perfectly clear? They had all grown up. He had a girlfriend now, and he would put his girlfriend’s feelings first.

Going forward, they would each have their own separate lives.

Jiang Yan’s mother laughed softly. “Which is why you’re all still so young. I once had a university classmate who was in a deeply loving relationship, but they broke up before graduation. That classmate later got together with someone else — and you know what’s funny? Her husband turned out to be her neighbor. They had grown up side by side. Her husband had cared for her for many years, but for the longest time nothing ever came of it — not because there was no feeling, you could say, but because the nature of their relationship kept it from going anywhere. My classmate told me later, she had always thought of him as the boy next door — practically family — and she had never once thought of him in that way. But somehow, after all the twists and turns of life, they found each other. Both grew up together like that — and the bond between them was far deeper than most ordinary couples.”

Jiang Yan’s mother paused. “When I saw her again afterward, I asked whether she still remembered the boyfriend she had been so devoted to back then. She had to think for quite a while before she could even remember who I was referring to. And then she said — she couldn’t even recall what he looked like anymore.”

Lin Kexing listened, rapt.

She only came back to herself when Jiang Yan’s mother called her name several times.

“Kexing, Yan is still young. And his girlfriend is young too — only twenty,” Jiang Yan’s mother said. “Being so young means there are so many uncertainties ahead — family circumstances, the future, so many things. So I’ve thought about it, and there’s no need for you to help me take stock of her anymore. Just let things unfold as they will.”

Jiang Yan’s mother talked with her about a few other things after that.

When the call ended, the heaviness that had been sitting in Lin Kexing’s chest had lifted considerably, and a smile had found its way back to her face and her eyes.

She turned around — and found Jiang Ruoqiao watching her from a short distance away.

She startled.

Jiang Ruoqiao walked toward her with an unhurried expression. “Is everything alright?”

She added: “I saw you standing over here. Are you feeling unwell?”

Lin Kexing quickly shook her head. “No, I’m fine, really.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Lin Kexing reached for something to say. “That was Auntie calling just now.”

Jiang Ruoqiao gave a nod but asked nothing further. She turned and walked back toward the building.

It seemed like the simplest exchange that could ever pass between two people. Lin Kexing felt something slightly off about it, but she didn’t dwell on it.

Jiang Ruoqiao, however, had confirmed one thing.

Jiang Yan’s mother was indeed… very strange.

Lin Kexing had just overheard her and Jiang Yan’s conversation. She had heard what Jiang Yan said, and she must have lost her composure — the faint redness around her eyes was proof enough.

And yet, after a single phone call, that distress had evaporated. Lin Kexing looked noticeably lighter, as if a weight had been lifted.

They were both women. Jiang Ruoqiao knew — when a girl was heartbroken over someone she loved, outside comfort rarely made a dent.

Unless that person had said exactly the right thing, touched exactly the right nerve.

It also made one thing clear: whoever had provided this comfort was not a novice at it. She had clearly done this many times before. Which was why this daughter of a great family — who by all appearances had every advantage life could offer — had managed to sustain an unrequited love through all these years without a trace of resentment.

Jiang Ruoqiao raised her eyes to the clear blue sky overhead, and a quietly contemptuous smile crossed her lips.

What a devoted and calculating mother indeed.