Chapter 63: Relapse Part 1

Jiang Qingmeng pinched Jiang Zhizhou’s chin. “Are you so afraid of them finding out about us?”

Jiang Zhizhou felt that her little girl had these episodes from time to time.

A paranoid suspicion born of excessive worry and jealousy.

Lurking behind that suspicion was a profound lack of security.

Perhaps it stemmed from an unhappy childhood family, which made her more prone to insecurity than most girls.

An ordinary person might not put up with it.

But Jiang Zhizhou knew she wasn’t ordinary.

She gazed into Jiang Qingmeng’s eyes, her own expression softening as she thought: This little girl must be tormenting herself with her doubts, constantly living in fear of being abandoned at any moment, terrified of being seen through and losing her dignity. That was why she put on such a tough front, bluffing with her harsh words and actions.

If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t give a damn about anyone. She’d always be polite, considerate, and perfectly accommodating.

The fact that Jiang Zhizhou could draw out this other side of her brought a secret, almost petty thrill to her heart.

She probably had issues of her own.

When Jiang Zhizhou didn’t respond, Jiang Qingmeng took it as tacit agreement. Her throat tightened, and a wave of sorrow crashed over her.

Did this relationship make her feel ashamed? Was that why she was so desperate to hide it, so afraid of discovery?

If that’s what she thought…

The pressure on her jaw suddenly intensified. Jiang Zhizhou frowned slightly and caught the feral glint in Jiang Qingmeng’s eyes, the red veins threading through them.

Off overthinking again…

Jiang Zhizhou let out a helpless chuckle. She reached up to cup the back of Jiang Qingmeng’s head, leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips, then gently pried her hand away. Pulling her into a tight embrace, she ruffled the hair at the nape of her neck, soothing her like one might a skittish pet. “I’ve never been afraid of anyone finding out about us. I haven’t wronged anybody or done anything wrong—why should I be scared? I’m only worried that if certain people knew, they might try to hurt you or derail both our careers. That’s why we keep it low-key.”

Jiang Qingmeng looked half convinced. “Really?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

Deep down, Jiang Qingmeng understood the logic perfectly; she didn’t really need it spelled out. It was just her old habit of suspicion flaring up, using the moment to fish for reassurance and calm her fragile emotions.

Hearing Jiang Zhizhou’s explanation felt like a shot of sedative. Her unease and doubts gradually ebbed away.

She was always questioning Jiang Zhizhou’s sincerity, yet she’d believe her words for a time.

She ping-ponged endlessly between faith and suspicion, torturing them both.

She didn’t know whether exhaustion or true trust would win out in the end. All she knew was that she absolutely could not let Jiang Zhizhou leave.

She couldn’t lose her again. It would drive her mad.

The car fell quiet for a moment.

Cradling the warm, soft body in her arms, Jiang Zhizhou ruffled her hair again.

Her dark locks were as smooth and silky as satin, cool to the touch. It felt wonderful.

Perched on Jiang Zhizhou’s lap, Jiang Qingmeng nestled quietly against her, resting her forehead on her shoulder. Inappropriately, she thought of how Jiang Zhizhou liked to ruffle the tuft of fur on a cat’s head when petting one.

Little Ai, serving as their driver, stayed utterly silent the whole way, minimizing her presence as much as possible.

After dropping off the two ancestors at home, Little Ai quickly ran through a few details—the cat was in the guest bedroom, work materials in the study—before making her escape.

They had arrived at Jiang Qingmeng’s place near the venue: the Riverside Mansion, a prime piece of real estate where only the wealthy elite dwelled.

Jiang Qingmeng had bought the entire building outright.

The basement housed a collection of luxury cars. The first floor was a concert hall filled with instruments of every kind. The second floor displayed antiques and paintings. Floors three and four held wardrobes of designer clothes, shoes, and bags. The fifth was a gym, the sixth a study and private cinema. The seventh floor contained the kitchen, living room, and bedrooms. The top level had been converted into a garden and swimming pool. Private elevators connected every floor directly to the bedrooms.

As they stepped into the elevator, Jiang Qingmeng peered through her sunglasses at the red mark her grip had left on Jiang Zhizhou’s jaw. Guilt pricked at her heart. “Do you prefer this place or the Suburban Manor? Whichever you like, it’s all yours.”

She referred to every property in her name as their home.

Jiang Zhizhou replied earnestly, “I like anywhere you are.”

Wherever she was, that was home. Everywhere else was just a residence.

Jiang Qingmeng pressed her lips together, a quiet joy blooming in her chest. She tried to suppress the smile tugging at her mouth but failed, her lips curving upward.

The next words from Jiang Zhizhou, however, were only half sincere. “That said, on a bigger scale, your behavior is like some guy who hits his wife and then throws money at her to make up for it.”

Jiang Qingmeng’s smile vanished in an instant. She whipped off her sunglasses, revealing her clear eyes, and fixed Jiang Zhizhou with a stare. “That’s not what I meant at all!”

The elevator dinged at the seventh floor. Jiang Zhizhou glanced at her, a smile playing over her downcast eyes as she took her hand and led her out. “I know. I just want you to stop overthinking so much. And don’t try to fix emotional problems with money. The hurt between lovers can’t be bought off—at least, not with me.”

Jiang Qingmeng lowered her head in silence. She reached back, took Jiang Zhizhou’s hand, and scanned her fingerprint into the system. Then she opened the door, flicked on the lights, changed into slippers, walked into the living room, and shoved her forcefully onto the sofa.

Jiang Zhizhou had been taking in the room’s decor when the sudden push caught her off guard, sending her tumbling onto the cushions.

Jiang Qingmeng straddled her thighs and gripped her shoulders, her expression deadly serious as she asked, “Then can I make it up to you with my body?”

Propped up on her hands behind her, back pressed against the sofa, Jiang Zhizhou stared at her in stunned silence. Were all young girls these days this unpredictable? It was always money or sex with her—her sense of right and wrong was seriously skewed.

Jiang Qingmeng leaned in and kissed the corner of Jiang Zhizhou’s mouth, mumbling thickly, “Not even that?” Her lips trailed to the sensitive spot beneath her ear, planting soft pecks as her warm breath ghosted across the skin like a whisper of orchids. “Then teach me… how should I make it up to you?”

Jiang Zhizhou’s hands settled on Jiang Qingmeng’s waist. She tilted her head back slightly, letting those kisses wander from her ear down to her neck. Her mind swam in a haze, though a sliver of clarity lingered.

Jiang Qingmeng’s fingers worked open the top button of her collar, her lips poised to venture lower. Jiang Zhizhou silently recited a few lines of socialist core values to herself, summoning a surge of righteous indignation to purge this wave of impropriety.

She pressed a hand over Jiang Qingmeng’s mouth and said softly, “We’re trying to have a serious conversation here. Hands to yourself.”

Jiang Qingmeng kissed her palm, her eyes curving into delighted crescents. “You’re saying that a little late,” she teased.

They’d already been kissing, after all.

Fearing she might take it further, Jiang Zhizhou yanked her hand back and guided Jiang Qingmeng’s head to rest against her chest. She wrapped her arms around her waist and said earnestly, “There are two serious things I need to discuss with you.”

Jiang Qingmeng shifted into a more comfortable side-sitting position, nestling into her embrace. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“First off, the Zhou family hasn’t made a peep lately. Can you pull the bodyguard?”

Jiang Qingmeng refused without hesitation. “No. Until my plan succeeds, you need someone watching over you.”

Jiang Zhizhou grumbled, “But I hate feeling like someone’s shadowing my every move.”

After a moment’s silence, Jiang Qingmeng replied, “Fine. I’ll tell him to keep his distance—far enough that you won’t see him.”

Jiang Zhizhou: …

“Being tailed from the shadows feels even creepier.”

“Then what do you want?”

“No one following me at all.”

“That’s not happening.”

Jiang Zhizhou ruffled her hair and cut straight to the chase. “Be honest. This whole time, have your bodyguards been reporting my schedule to you?”

Jiang Qingmeng caught the undercurrent of displeasure in her voice. She lowered her gaze and said evenly, “If you have a clear conscience, there’s no reason to fear me knowing where you’ve been.”

Her admission left Jiang Zhizhou simmering with frustration. She gritted her teeth and pressed on patiently. “Qingmeng, if you want to know my schedule, I can tell you myself every day. But having your bodyguards report back without my permission? That feels like a violation.”

“What’s the difference? I’m going to find out either way.”

Jiang Zhizhou let out a bitter laugh.

“The difference between choice and coercion. Freedom and a leash. Get it?”

Jiang Qingmeng shook her head. “No. I just want to know where you go and who you see when you’re not with me.” She paused, then added, “I should’ve asked your permission first—that was thoughtless of me. So, I’m asking now. Do you agree?”

Jiang Zhizhou gave a cool smile. “Do I even have a say?”

Jiang Qingmeng answered honestly, “No.”

She was just going through the motions. Agreement or not, the surveillance would continue.

Choked by her bluntness, Jiang Zhizhou called out full name and all, “Jiang Qingmeng, you can’t be this overbearing. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not stalking or spying on me.”

“I’m not spying. I just don’t want anyone hurting you.”

“You’re lying. You’re paranoid, convinced I’ll betray you somehow. You still don’t trust me.”

Nestled in Jiang Zhizhou’s arms, Jiang Qingmeng nipped lightly at her shoulder. She dropped the mask of sweet understanding and smiled. “Think what you want. Truth is, if you don’t like me, I won’t cling. But if you do… you have to like all of me. Accept every part.”

Her voice was as soft and melodic as ever, turning even these possessive words into something tender and intimate.

Jiang Zhizhou laughed again, equal parts anger and exasperation. “Look at you, getting all bold now that you know I dote on you.”

Jiang Qingmeng shrugged indifferently. “Call it whatever you like.”

Jiang Zhizhou held her close, stewing in silence for a moment.

The girl in her arms—she couldn’t bring herself to strike her, yell at her, or even dream of letting go.

She was utterly powerless against her.

Jiang Qingmeng stopped fussing with Jiang Zhizhou and quietly nestled in her arms, pressing her ear to her neck to feel the steady throb of the artery there.

Jiang Zhizhou held her head gently, stroked her hair, and asked in a muffled voice, “If one day I stop liking you, you really won’t cling to me?”

“I—” Pride held Jiang Qingmeng back from saying she wouldn’t, but the mere thought of Jiang Zhizhou not liking her carved a hollow ache in her chest, too raw for a full sentence. “Why… ask that all of a sudden? You can’t… stop liking me…”

She had professed her love, sworn to cherish her—how could she just toss her aside?

“I’m just speaking hypothetically.”

“No hypotheticals allowed!”

Jiang Zhizhou’s words threw Jiang Qingmeng into turmoil. She clung tighter, voice fierce. “You can’t leave me. You can’t stop liking me.” She hugged her desperately, terrified it might come true.

Stunned that a mere “what if” had unraveled her so completely, Jiang Zhizhou paused, then patted her shoulder softly to soothe her. “I won’t leave you. I won’t stop liking you. I was only hypothesizing. You said it yourself—if I didn’t like you anymore, you wouldn’t cling.”