Entrance of Guojin Mall, Building A.
He lowered his head to check his wristwatch, then looked up again just as a black shadow shot past in front of him, whipping up a gust of wind. In the blink of an eye, the shadow came stumbling back the other way.
A soaking wet hand reached out, fast and sure, and clapped itself over his mouth, shoving him hard against the wall to the side.
Feng Ning’s heart was still pounding wildly. She curled up beneath the stranger’s shoulder without moving, breathing in secret gasps, wiping a streak of water off her face with the back of her hand.
A few people who looked like security guards came rushing up with shouts, glancing left and right. She instinctively tightened her arm around the waist of the person in front of her.
They lingered a moment, then took off chasing in another direction.
A faint scent of citrus drifted past her nose. Belatedly, Feng Ning tilted her head up and looked at the person whose mouth she was clamping shut.
He was so tall.
Her gaze traveled upward, and her breath caught along with it.
The face in front of her was extremely close. Jet-black short hair, faint lashes, and — clear enough to make out — a small brown mole beside his eyebrow. A pair of misty eyes, long at the corners and slightly upturned, reflecting the pouring rain outside, carrying an indescribable haze.
Feng Ning’s hand went slack.
Everything had happened so fast. The stunned boy finally snapped out of his shock at being manhandled and shoved her away as if electrocuted.
“Shh, shh, don’t shout, they haven’t gone far.” Feng Ning pressed a finger to her lips, glancing around, then hurried to explain, “I’m not a bad person, I was just doing graffiti nearby and the security guards here chased me.”
She had just run in from the rain, soaked through down to the roots of her hair. Her dark blue eye shadow had smeared, a skull pendant hung defiantly at her chest, silver studs pierced her ears, and there was a bandage on her chin, faint traces of blood visible beneath it.
The boy said nothing, looking down at his jacket, now wet, and frowning in distaste. The little delinquent girl seemed utterly unbothered, meeting his gaze with a look that said I’m trouble, so what.
He looked at her the way one might look at a pile of scrap metal, garbage. With his usual trace of contempt, he unzipped his jacket and, without hesitation, peeled it off and tossed it to the ground.
This person carried himself with an air of looking down on everyone, sizing people up from head to toe. It matched perfectly with the luxury store sign above his head — equally cold, elegant, and untouchable.
Feng Ning wanted to laugh, but held it in. She glanced at the brand-name jacket discarded at her feet like trash, and said with leisurely composure, “Handsome, you’ve got quite the temper, huh?”
The boy restrained himself and replied coldly, “Yeah.”
“Fine, if you don’t want it, I’ll use it as a raincoat.” Feng Ning had the thick skin she’d cultivated since childhood — neither embarrassed nor stiff, she bent down with perfect calm and scooped up the jacket, waving her hand in delight. “Heh heh, thanks then.”
He glanced at her once and had no wish to speak further. He pulled out his earphones and put them on, expressionless.
Jiang Yuyun, wrapped in a trench coat, was signing a receipt at the counter. Yi Qiao twirled her car keys, telling a joke she’d just heard from someone the day before.
The two of them were well-known socialites of South City. A few sales associates listened silently as they took jabs at other people, unfazed, briskly packing up the purchases.
“Arthur’s coming back soon, did you know?”
“Mm.” Jiang Yuyun paused her pen, raising an eyebrow. “So?”
“That dog of a man got wasted at someone’s birthday party yesterday, got carried away, and said he can’t forget you. Hilarious. Nearly drove his girlfriend in LA crazy. Today he’s been asking around about who you are.”
The transparent glass doors slid open on both sides, and the two of them walked out. Jiang Yuyun swayed gracefully in her designer heels, letting out a cold snort. “None of my business. Just a bunch of nobodies, thinking they’re somebody.”
Yi Qiao craned her neck, sneaking a glance at a boy not far off. Jiang Yuyun caught her and shot her a glare. “That’s my little brother, he just started high school.”
“Tsk, what are you thinking, I’m not that depraved!” Yi Qiao feigned outrage, nudging her friend’s shoulder. “But your brother really is handsome. No wonder, being from your Jiang family. How many girls’ hearts is he going to break when he grows up?”
Jiang Yuyun huffed through her nose. “He’s the one with the glass heart.” Then she added, “You don’t know this — when he was little, my mom took him up the mountain to have his fortune read. The Daoist said his whole life would go smoothly, except he’d never escape a romantic calamity.”
Yi Qiao laughed. “A romantic calamity? What woman could bear to break his heart?”
“Xiao Wen, let’s go.” Jiang Yuyun walked over, taking off her sunglasses, looking her brother up and down in surprise. “Huh, where’s your jacket?”
Jiang Wen pulled one earbud out, answering absentmindedly, “Ran into a female hooligan.”
The female hooligan returned home in high spirits.
Qi Lan’s gaze landed on her soaking-wet daughter. “What happened to you?”
“Went out to play, didn’t bring an umbrella.” Feng Ning politely greeted the aunties at the mahjong table, wiping her long hair with a towel while standing nearby to watch the game.
Auntie Li glanced at her. “Has Xiao Ning’s grades come out yet? How’d she do?”
Amid the crisp clatter of mahjong tiles, Feng Ning smiled and answered, “Not bad.”
“Which school?”
“Qide.”
“Oh, Qide? That’s impressive!” Auntie Li praised her bright future, sighing exaggeratedly. “If my son could be half as good as Xiao Ning, I’d wake up laughing in my dreams.”
Qi Lan flipped out an eight of circles, laughing loudly, feigning modesty. “That’s because you haven’t seen her when she’s being difficult. I worry myself sick over her.”
“Ah, Sister Lan, you’ve worked so hard all these years. Seeing your daughter turn out so well must be such a comfort.”
Feng Ning’s father had died young. Neither Qi Lan nor he were locals — a widowed mother and orphaned daughter with no relatives to turn to. Afraid her young daughter would suffer, Qi Lan never remarried. She’d worked at beauty salons, sold clothes, done all kinds of sales work. It was only after scraping together enough savings once Feng Ning reached middle school that she opened a mahjong parlor, and life finally got a little easier.
Feng Ning said with a cheeky grin, “Mom, you all keep playing, I’m going to shower.”
Qi Lan looked up between hands. “Oh right, Auntie’s got something to deal with today, remember to help out in the kitchen for dinner.”
After cleaning up, Feng Ning went back to her room, humming a tune out of habit, and pulled open the curtains to let the sunlight in.
She leaned on the windowsill for a while, gazing out. After the summer rain, the grape vine leaves were a lush, dripping green, cicadas shrieked themselves hoarse, and in the shade of the trees, the old man from next door dozed in his rocking chair, fanning himself.
She fetched half a chilled watermelon from the kitchen fridge.
Lounging comfortably on the window seat, she picked at the watermelon while scrolling through Taobao, browsing the internet, when she suddenly thought of the jacket she’d picked up for free. With thoroughly petty curiosity, Feng Ning went to search the brand’s store for the same style.
The instant the price loaded on the page, she jolted upright in shock, nearly dropping her phone on her face. She knew designer brands were expensive, but she hadn’t expected that expensive!
Feng Ning clicked her tongue. That spoiled little young master sure was loaded.
The big yellow dog wagged its tail and jumped up, letting out a bark before curling into a ball in the corner. She closed the webpage and messaged Shuang Yao on WeChat.
Feng Ning: [Tell Xiao Zhao quick, tomorrow’s his birthday, Sister Ning is definitely getting him a big gift]
Shuang Yao: [You said that last year too, and ended up giving him a bottle of laundry detergent——!]
Feng Ning: [Still holding that against me?]
Shuang Yao: [The main issue is you’re way too cheap. Xiao Zhao got home and found his mom had the exact same brand of laundry detergent, the two of them just stared at each other, and his mom said it was the mahjong parlor’s giveaway…]
Feng Ning laughed so hard she rolled around, and Beibei jumped into her arms, nuzzling against her.
Rolling over, she freed a hand to pet the fluffy dog’s head, typing while lying on her stomach: [That just happened to line up with the mahjong parlor’s customer appreciation giveaway, so I grabbed one, just to mess with him for fun. Don’t worry, to make up for the emotional damage Xiao Zhao suffered last year, this year’s birthday gift is going to have him on his knees calling me daddy!]
The summer break passed especially quickly, and in a blink it was registration day. South City’s summer sun hung directly overhead, the sky a deep blue, waves of heat rolling through the air.
The hallway was packed with people — men, women, teachers, students.
Jiang Wen wore a thin polo shirt, one hand in his pocket, leaning sideways against the doorframe.
In the muggy summer heat, his short, choppy hair was faintly damp with sweat, fine beads of it clinging to the tip of his nose. His extraordinarily handsome features stood out in the crowded corridor; passing girls couldn’t help sneaking extra glances, then huddling together to whisper.
Having been stared at like this for a while, his young-master temper began to flare, though it didn’t show on his face.
“Damn, you bitch, dressed this slutty in such a proper school, what are you trying to pull?”
The girl’s reply came without a shred of hesitation, lazy and unbothered. “Mind your own business.”
Jiang Wen caught the two lines and felt, inexplicably, that the voice sounded familiar. He turned his head instinctively — but the face was a complete stranger.
Just then, the girl turned fully around. She had her bag slung over one shoulder, chatting and laughing with someone beside her, her eyebrows slightly raised, the bandage on her chin giving her an especially wild look.
He studied her for two seconds before he placed it.
The little delinquent from the rainy day.
She’d washed off her heavy makeup — pale skin, delicate features, striking at first glance. She wore a light-colored camisole, cut low at the chest, cinched tight at the waist, paired with a matching pleated skirt and sandals. A pair of long, straight legs were plainly exposed to the air, their curve flaunting a sensuality that didn’t belong to someone her age.
Before he could recover, Feng Ning had already noticed him. Jiang Wen immediately looked away.
She was mildly surprised, hesitating for two seconds before her eyes widened and she broke into a grin. “Wow! What a coincidence, handsome, didn’t expect to run into you here — remember me?”
In the face of her enthusiastic greeting, Jiang Wen’s expression showed no trace of a smile. He remained perfectly calm, pretending not to hear, not even sparing her another glance.
Just then, the person he was waiting for came out. He pushed off the wall with his elbow and straightened up. Wearing that expression of his, the one that liked to look at people down the length of his chin, he walked past her indifferently and left.
Zhao Binlin was well used to this sort of thing. He threw an arm around Jiang Wen’s shoulders and turned back, grinning in a way that begged to be smacked. “Beauty, my buddy here’s hard to catch. Next time try a different approach.”
Feng Ning rolled her eyes internally, though her face stayed all smiles. “Got it.”
Once they’d walked off, Shuang Yao’s eyes lit up with mischief, and she smacked Feng Ning on the back. “Where do you know him from? Spill!”
Feng Ning nearly tripped, catching herself on the wall, turning to glare. “Go easy! I don’t know him, do we look like we know each other?”
Shuang Yao pushed her forward. “I just did a quick scan of his whole outfit — god, just having him glance at me feels like an insult to my dignity.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because his whole body screams I’m rich, I’m noble, and you, you ugly thing, don’t deserve me.“
“Wow, you even got a rhyme in there!” Feng Ning laughed and lowered her voice. “By the way, remember that jacket I said I’d give to Xiao Zhao?”
Shuang Yao’s eyes widened in realization. “He’s the one — that, that rich little young master?!”
“Yep.” Feng Ning sighed heavily. “That’s him. Not only does he have a serious prince complex, he’s also basically made of money.”
Shuang Yao clicked her tongue in regret. “What a waste, being that handsome. Though complex or not, you make it sound like he’d even bother talking to you.”
“Oh yeah? How about we make a bet then.” Feng Ning stuck out a finger with a rascally flourish, waving it side to side. “One month.”
Shuang Yao made a confused noise.
“One month, and I’ll have him wrapped around my finger.”
Shuang Yao had nothing to say to that. She pressed the back of her hand to Feng Ning’s forehead, trailing off. “…No fever. Maybe think about whether you’re even in his league first.”
“You think I’m bluffing?” Feng Ning looked straight ahead, speaking unhurriedly. “Boys who act like they couldn’t care less about me, when really they’re just putting on a show — I, Feng Ning, have seen plenty of those.”
She leaned against the railing, crossing her arms behind her head, letting the wind toss her skirt, and smiled with sheer arrogance. “He just zoned out looking at me. Don’t tell me that’s not an act.”
Author’s Note: Happy New Year everyone, this fic doesn’t have much of a buffer stocked up, updates will be around 7pm for now (I’ll say something if I run out of buffer, it’s been so long since I started a new fic I don’t know what else to say. My hope for this one is just to finish it properly (praying) can’t make any other promises TVT after all this time my writing speed hasn’t really improved much.