Chapter 29: Heart Moves: Day 9

The sky gradually darkened, and the surroundings grew ever more still.

Bei Huai stood beneath the streetlamp, the dim light casting a lonely shadow over her expression.

The fresh red imprint of fingers on her cheek stood out starkly.

Jiang Wan gazed at her, lips parting as though to speak, but her throat felt clogged, leaving her speechless for a long moment.

Her eyes burned with an aching soreness she could scarcely endure.

Bei Huai’s lips curved in the faintest hint of a smile, her voice light and detached, carrying a note of teasing mingled with self-mockery.

“I’m the one who got slapped, and I’m perfectly fine. Yet here you are, looking more distressed than I feel.”

Those words only made Jiang Wan’s nose sting worse, her heart twisting in pain.

The sight of the mark on Bei Huai’s face was unbearable.

How could anyone strike her so hard!

Pursing her lips, Jiang Wan reached out instinctively to touch Bei Huai’s cheek.

But before her fingers made contact, a cool hand seized them.

Startled, Jiang Wan looked up into a pair of deep, fathomless eyes brimming with unspoken complexities she couldn’t decipher.

Then her gaze dropped to Bei Huai’s knuckles, scraped raw and threaded with faint traces of blood.

Her face paled, and she gripped Bei Huai’s hand in turn, demanding angrily, “What happened to this?”

Bei Huai’s hand was soft and delicate against hers, warming rapidly under Jiang Wan’s touch.

…Not just her hand, it seemed.

Uncomfortable, Bei Huai tried to pull away, but Jiang Wan held fast, refusing to let go.

“It got scraped when I hit back. Just a little scratch—nothing serious.” With a sigh, she offered the explanation.

“A little scratch? Then what would you call a serious injury!”

Bei Huai’s indifference only fueled Jiang Wan’s anger. She puffed out her cheeks, fixed her with a stern glare, and launched into a thorough scolding.

Once finished, she dove into her bag, rummaging until she produced a Band-Aid. With careful attention, she applied it to Bei Huai’s knuckle.

“So childish,” Bei Huai murmured, glancing down with a soft chuckle.

It was a pink Band-Aid printed with a little bear—just as adorable as its owner.

Jiang Wan shot her an exasperated look. “If it’s so childish, then start taking better care of yourself from now on.”

Bei Huai still seemed unconcerned, prompting Jiang Wan to press her lips together. Her fair little face drained of color, and a thin mist gathered in her almond-shaped eyes, lending her an air of profound sadness.

“Little Bei, you don’t have to be so tough all the time. You’re not some emotionless robot—you’re a girl who deserves to be cherished.”

Bei Huai’s features remained impassive, as if she’d heard a great joke. The corner of her mouth quirked up, her tone laced with cold sarcasm. “You’re wrong. No one cherishes me, and I don’t need them to.”

They say the child who cries gets the candy. But even when she’d cried until her voice gave out, she’d never earned so much as a comforting embrace.

That was the bitter lesson of one disappointment after another.

She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Who says? Aren’t I right here?”

The clear, sweet voice shattered Bei Huai’s reverie, yanking her back to the present.

The girl before her had reddened eyes, her expression fierce with anger.

Yet her naturally soft, glutinous tone turned the threat adorably impotent, devoid of any real menace.

“Even if no one was there before, there is now. I’ll protect you from here on out!”

Bei Huai couldn’t help but be amused.

Stifling a laugh, she reached out and ruffled Jiang Wan’s hair. “With those little arms and legs of yours? Protect me? You’d have your hands full just looking after yourself.”

Jiang Wan swatted the offending hand away, smoothing her hair back into place. She glared at Bei Huai, who was still chuckling to herself, flushed with a mix of shyness and embarrassment. “Who are you underestimating!”

“Let’s go,” Bei Huai said, shaking her head with a smile.

Jiang Wan grumbled, “Where to?”

“We’ve been at this for ages and still haven’t eaten dinner. What do you think?”

“Hot pot?”

The path had been full of twists and turns, but they finally sat down to hot pot.

It was only then that Jiang Wan noticed how spicy food brought color rushing to Bei Huai’s face.

After just a few bites, her cheeks glowed like ripe apples, her lips swollen and vividly red from the heat.

Watching Bei Huai chug water in a desperate bid to cool down, Jiang Wan felt a blend of amusement and exasperation.

“If you can’t handle spicy food, you should have said something sooner. Take it slow—don’t choke.” She patted Bei Huai’s back gently while pouring her a glass of milk.

Milk worked best against spice; water only made it worse.

“I’ve never had anything this spicy before. I had no idea I couldn’t take it.” Bei Huai finally caught her breath after a long while.

Her lips still tingled faintly. She couldn’t fathom how Jiang Wan ate it without flinching.

Bei Huai wasn’t one for bold flavors; her meals were usually light and mild.

This hot pot spot was authentically flavorful, but the spice packed a real punch.

When they were ordering, Jiang Wan had asked if she could handle spicy food. Bei Huai figured she could—and she wanted to find out just how hot it really was.

She never imagined she’d overestimated herself.

In the end, Jiang Wan asked the boss to switch them to a yin-yang hotpot, half spicy and half mild. It was perfect for the two of them.

Bei Huai had pretty much lost her appetite from the heat, but watching the girl across from her devour her food with such relish somehow reignited her own hunger.

By the time they finished, night had fallen completely.

It was around eight or nine o’clock.

The two of them strolled along the curb, the cool breeze ruffling their hair as they chatted idly here and there.

“Were you scared today?” Bei Huai stared at the dazzling neon lights shimmering in the distance. She narrowed her eyes and asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” Jiang Wan blinked, caught off guard.

Bei Huai turned to look at her, something strange flickering in her gaze.

After a moment of silence, she said softly, “When you saw me beating that guy so viciously… did it scare you? Are you afraid of me now?”

No one knew how much courage it had taken her to voice those words.

She’d told herself she didn’t care. But every time the memory surfaced, it pricked at her heart like a thorn—itchy, painful, impossible to ignore or soothe.

In that alley, the girl had stood at a careful distance, clutching the strap of her crossbody bag, her eyes brimming with unmistakable fear and hesitation.

It was so vivid that Bei Huai hadn’t even dared meet her gaze, terrified she’d see disgust staring back in the next instant.

She wasn’t a good person, and she had no interest in pretending to be one. Even so, in that moment, she desperately wished she didn’t seem too awful in the girl’s eyes.

It felt like a public execution. Bei Huai bowed her head, bracing for the verdict.

One second. Two seconds.

Nothing but silence.

Hesitantly, she looked up—and found the girl tilting her head, gazing at her with a bright, gentle smile, her eyes warm and sparkling.

“Well, the first look did startle me a bit. But after that? Not scared at all.”

Her voice was soft and airy, like a feather brushing against Bei Huai’s heart—ticklish and tingling.

“Why not?” Bei Huai’s voice came out hoarse.

“Because it was you.” Jiang Wan’s eyes shone bright and clear, as if they could chase away any shadow.

Because it was Little Bei. That’s why she wasn’t afraid.

The moon hung like a crescent, the stars twinkled brightly overhead.

Streetlights bathed the sidewalk in warm yellow glows, stretching their shadows long behind them.

~~~

Jiang Wan figured she could just take the bus home by herself, but Bei Huai wouldn’t hear of it. She insisted on walking her all the way to her apartment building.

“You’ll have to catch another bus back. That’s such a hassle,” Jiang Wan said, feeling guilty.

Bei Huai shrugged it off. “My place is close by. It’s no trouble—it’s basically on my way.”

“Really?” Jiang Wan eyed her skeptically.

“What else would it be?”

With that, Jiang Wan couldn’t argue anymore.

When they reached the building and Jiang Wan said her goodbyes, a sudden realization hit her like lightning.

She smacked her forehead. “Oh no! We forgot the stuff we bought!”

Those shopping bags were still sitting abandoned in that alley. With everything that had happened, she’d clean forgotten about them.

No wonder something had felt off on the walk back.

It was way too late to go retrieve them now. Her mom was home tonight, and the rule was ten-thirty sharp—or she’d start worrying.

“That alley?” Bei Huai frowned. If Jiang Wan hadn’t brought it up, she probably wouldn’t have remembered either.

Jiang Wan nodded glumly.

“Ah well, we’ll check tomorrow,” she said, though she wasn’t holding out much hope.

By tomorrow, they were probably long gone.

The money wasn’t the big deal. It was those clothes and accessories—she’d really loved them.

“It’s okay, Little Bei. You head home now. It’s late—get some rest!” Jiang Wan plastered on a smile and waved her off.

“You too.” Bei Huai gave her a glance and replied evenly.

She turned and walked away, not stopping until she rounded the corner, out of Jiang Wan’s sight.

“Silly girl,” she muttered under her breath.

Then she flagged down a taxi and headed straight for Sheng Rong Plaza.

Back home, Jiang Wan regaled her mother with all the fun highlights of the day, naturally skipping over the rough patches.

After a quick shower and slipping into her comfy pajamas, she sprawled on the bed. She reviewed her vocab words for about ten minutes, then chatted with Guanguan for a bit.

She was just drifting off to sleep when she heard her mother’s surprised voice from the doorway.

“What’s this?”

Puzzled, Jiang Wan cracked open her bedroom door. Right there by the front entrance sat a pile of shopping bags.

Everything she’d bought. Not a single one missing.

“Someone just knocked on the door. When I opened it, these things were sitting right there on the doorstep, but I didn’t see a soul,” Mother Jiang explained from nearby.

Jiang Wan’s expression shifted. She hurried to the door and peered around.

Just as her mother had said, there wasn’t a person in sight.

She pressed her lips together, didn’t even bother changing out of her pajamas, and bolted straight downstairs.

“Little Wan, where are you off to?” Mother Jiang called out in surprise from behind her.

Jiang Wan raced all the way to the base of the residential building. Barely catching her breath, she scanned every corner, desperately hoping to spot a familiar figure.

But she found nothing.

Her thin pajamas offered little protection against the cool night breeze that swept through, raising goosebumps all over her skin.

She hadn’t brought her phone, and the person was nowhere to be found.

With a heavy heart, Jiang Wan trudged back upstairs.

Out of her sight, the red-haired girl leaned against the wall. Her gaze dropped low as she gently rubbed the Band-Aid taped over her knuckle, a swirl of unnameable emotions churning in her eyes.

Bei Huai had rushed to that alley late at night, but the items weren’t there. She’d gone from shop to shop, throwing money around and pulling up surveillance footage until she’d finally tracked everything down.

She’d gone to all this trouble for one thing alone: the girl’s unhappy look.

Bei Huai felt like she was losing her mind a little.

She needed to straighten out her thoughts, and until she did, it was best if Jiang Wan’s every move didn’t throw her off balance.

That was why she hadn’t stepped out to meet her.

She was afraid that one glimpse of the girl’s radiant smile would turn her brain to mush.

Cen Jin had just called, asking where she was.

Bei Qi must have secretly filled her in on the day’s drama. Once Cen Jin wrapped up her own business, she’d made a special trip to Bei Huai’s place but hadn’t found her. Then she’d checked a few spots where the girl liked to hang out, still no luck.

“I’m over in the Xichuan District,” she replied flatly.

“You went that far?” Cen Jin sounded surprised.

Xichuan District was a solid two-hour drive from Bei Huai’s house.

In truth, Bei Huai’s home and Jiang Wan’s were nowhere near each other—polar opposites on the map.

“But you sound like you’re in a good mood,” Cen Jin noted, arching a brow.

Before, Bei Huai never would have chatted with her so calmly.

Whenever she clashed with Yun Manzhu and the others, she always looked half-dead.

Today was a rare exception.

Bei Huai paused.

If Cen Jin hadn’t brought it up, she might have forgotten all about her argument with Yun Manzhu and Bei Rong.

Maybe it was because Jiang Wan had been there with her.

Somehow… it hadn’t hurt as much.