Chapter 49: The Submissive, Obsessive Top Student

It was a cloudy Sunday morning, and the early winter chill bit deep. Jiang Zhiyi was actually quite strong-willed; except when she put on a pitiful act for Shi Qingyi, she never exposed her disability.

The self-reliant President Jiang tidied herself up, then placed a cup of hot milk gently by the bed. Like a cat leaving home, she leaned in close to Shi Qingyi’s fluffy long hair.

“It’s cooling down today, might even snow. Can we stay in? If you want anything, just call me. I’ll handle company business and come right back to keep you company.” She nuzzled the person who wasn’t fully awake yet, her voice so gentle it was like coaxing.

Even disheveled and without makeup, Shi Qingyi was stunning. She’d lost the arrogance of her youth, and now, nestled in the warm blankets, she looked lazy and carefree.

The lazy riser mumbled a couple of agreements without even opening her eyes—that counted as consent.

Satisfied with the reply, the someone finally left. But before going, she frowned at the glimpse of pale arm peeking out, seriously wheeled back, and tucked her firmly under the covers.

Bundled up tight—no one else could see. And on her shoulder, there were those faint kiss marks—

Shi Qingyi left at ten in the morning. The milk had gone cold and tasted a bit off, but she finished it sip by sip, bundled up thickly before heading out. On her way, she stood by the window, snapped a photo of the snowy scene, and sent it to Jiang Zhiyi.

“It’s snowing. Waiting for you to come home.”

This year’s snow came unusually early, starting flurries in November. The fine flakes weighed down the bare orange trees of winter and bent the rose bushes Jiang Zhiyi had specially planted for her outside the window.

Shi Mother waited at the café. When she reached out to pull her close, Shi Qingyi dodged away coldly.

Her hand hung in the air for a long moment before Shi Mother awkwardly withdrew it, gave a wry smile, and opened the car door. “Let’s go. The gift’s somewhere else—I think you’ll like it.”

The drive was silent, save for the snow falling heavier outside. The car sped along until halfway there, when Shi Qingyi frowned. “How much longer? I have other plans this afternoon.”

“Other plans? Want to go now? I can have the driver turn around.” Shi Mother sounded a bit surprised, sitting up straighter.

Shi Qingyi’s slender fingers turned her watch. The hour hand hadn’t reached the quarter mark—it was just past one. She shook her head. “No need.”

—There was still time.

Shi Mother relaxed, her smile gentle as she leaned closer. “When I left, you were only eight or nine. Back then, little Yi, you were the clingiest. And now look at you, all grown up.”

She tried to pat her head, but Shi Qingyi dodged again. Shi Mother’s smile turned bitter.

“You used to stick to me all the time. I was always fighting with your dad and neglected you—that was my fault. Later, in middle and high school, you deliberately caused trouble. It was to get me to pay attention, to come back and see you, right?”

“…” Silence spread through the car, the air thick and stagnant. After a long pause, Shi Qingyi met her eyes. “Yes. But you knew and still didn’t come.”

Those hidden pains of youth, those thoughts too embarrassing to voice—they were so nakedly obvious to an adult, even laughable.

Shi Mother’s lips parted and closed, her expression pained. “I was… very busy then.”

Shi Qingyi hadn’t expected any solid explanation anyway, so she felt no ripple. She just waited quietly for more.

“Your dad and your grandfather were both targeting Liu Ayi. I couldn’t spare the energy to care for you.”

“So now you can?”

“Of course.” The woman, always so refined and poised, finally had red-rimmed eyes in the chill wind. The car stopped in an open area, and the driver hauled a tall black suitcase from the back seat. She pushed it clumsily.

“Inside are clothes I picked myself—white dresses, hair clips. You loved those as a kid. Snacks you used to like, and a few cards with plenty of money on each. I’ll deposit more monthly…”

She spoke earnestly, but the young woman opposite frowned slightly. They looked so alike, yet shared no connection. “So?”

Shi Mother slipped the suitcase into her hands, seizing the chance to grip them. “What Mom means is, your dad’s company mess—Liu Ayi and I will handle it. Little Yi, you can live your own life now.”

“My daughter deserves a free and open life, chasing her childhood dreams: traveling the world, becoming a famous painter. Not wasting away here.” She spoke proudly, eyes shining, though red at the corners.

“The airport’s not far. I’ve prepared everything on the other side. No worries for you. Live your life—don’t wrong yourself for your dad. We’ll handle the rest.”

She clutched her grown daughter’s hand, as if summoning great courage. Then she saw shock in her eyes, followed by a silent, cold laugh.

Shi Qingyi slowly withdrew her icy hand from her mother’s palm, chest tightening for a moment. She shook her head at the woman before her.

“You’re the same as always. Ten years ago, you abandoned your daughter and husband for love, without a word. You thought leaving me with Dad was best. I clung to your leg, begging not to lose Mom, but you pushed me away, saying I’d be better with him. Making decisions for me on your own.”

“Never—never once considering what I wanted. And now it’s the same—”

Shi Qingyi looked at her. Born into wealth, married off to a shrewd husband by her parents. Even after divorce, she found a devoted partner. She’d never tasted real hardship.

Her fingers were pried loose one by one. The woman in the wool coat stepped back half a pace, her voice not angry—just weary.

“You don’t even know what I like now.”

She backed away two more steps. She wasn’t that crying little girl anymore. She didn’t crave pretty skirts or hair clips, or dream of world travel every day—though she still loved freedom.

“Little Yi,” Shi Mother frowned, sudden uncertainty turning to panic. “Don’t be willful. Liu Ayi and I are ready to back your dad. The Jiang Family can’t touch you—”

Shi Mother tried to grab her hand but failed. Then, from the snowy wind behind, came a muffled, low cough. “Where… do you think you’re going?”

The person in the wheelchair emerged from the snow depths. She’d wheeled herself there—the path through melting slush was slow, and on closer look, her body trembled visibly.

Her face was frozen purple, expression terrifyingly grim. But from the moment she spotted Shi Qingyi, her cold eyes never wavered.

Her voice was icy, almost frigid.

It was over.

Shi Qingyi’s heart sank, her lips twitching.

Would Jiang Zhiyi believe her now if she said she was just going to pick her up and go home?

—

Maybe from exhaustion the day before, Jiang Zhiyi had napped and dreamed. In the dream, Shi Qingyi held her, peppering kisses on her temple, whispering “I like you” over and over.

Even in the dream, her heart raced.

But waking, the bed was empty.

She checked her phone: a message with a snowy photo, the woman rubbing her hands, half her face peeking from her scarf.

Her breath caught. The message said waiting for her to come home—if not for the location showing the road to the airport.

—She had no sense of security. Not only cameras at home, but a tracker on Shi Qingyi’s phone.

She’s lying to me.

Jiang Zhiyi’s chest twisted in pain, her whole body trembling faintly. Everything on the desk was swept away—she wanted to smash it all to bits.

Shi Qingyi had left after all—

Just as she’d always suspected: all lies, fake affection. Yesterday’s sweetness just to escape today.

Jiang Zhiyi shook uncontrollably. Glass shattered everywhere. Her face was ashen as gold paper, but a strange madness welled from her heart.

No matter. She couldn’t run. Three years ago, she’d slipped away once. Not this time.

Still, she clung to a sliver of hope and went home. The house was empty. She waited in the living room until after work hours, but no one returned.

Without Shi Qingyi, the place felt desolate, lifeless.

Her limbs were ice-cold, the chill seeping inward despite constant AC.

She gripped Shi Qingyi’s location tightly, telling herself: if she came back now, she’d forgive everything, pretend it never happened. But she didn’t.

She closed her eyes, burying the last of her hope.

Where could she run to?

Wherever, she’d drag her back—no matter the cost. Shi Qingyi wasn’t alone; she had father, family, company—

Weak points meant she couldn’t just walk away free.

No one was taking her from me—

No one!

—

Snow fell thick and fast, blanketing the world white in moments. It settled on her, and Shi Qingyi suddenly felt cold.

Not just the weather—Jiang Zhiyi.

It made the cold pierce bone-deep.

After a long moment, Jiang Zhiyi gripped the wheelchair arms tight, voice hoarse. “Qingyi, come home with me. I can pretend nothing happened today.”

Shi Qingyi paused.

“System, is she serious?”

The system hesitated, skipping the question to solemnly assure: “…Host, trust me. With me here, you definitely won’t die.”

But broken legs or arms? No guarantees.

Shi Qingyi’s lips twitched. She knew Jiang Zhiyi well—this return might mean not seeing tomorrow’s sun.

Jiang Zhiyi wheeled forward a few steps herself, eyes reddening, extending a frozen-red hand toward Shi Qingyi.

“Qingyi, come here, okay?”

—The tone stubbornly terrifying, shadowed yet pitifully luring her over.

She didn’t know what losing Shi Qingyi would do to her. She didn’t dare imagine.

“Miss Jiang, this is too much—”

Shi Mother frowned. This person was threatening Qingyi with her father, family, everything.

Jiang Zhiyi’s eyes had been only on Shi Qingyi. Hearing the interruption, her expression turned to utter ice. She slowly turned to the woman beside her and froze.

That was Shi Qingyi’s mother—the one trying to take her away.

But whether she left depended on Qingyi. Her outstretched hand stayed, rigid in midair, waiting stubbornly.

“Qingyi,” she forced a smile, voice nearly breaking into sobs. “Come home with me. I’ll pretend nothing happened. I waited for you so long at home…”

Shi Qingyi ignored Shi Mother’s gaze, paused, dropped the suitcase, and actually walked over as asked.

Shi Mother stared in shock, tried to stop her—but her daughter went willingly.

Shi Qingyi thought helplessly: Even without the pressure, I’d go back. I never wanted to leave.

As if unable to believe her obedience, Jiang Zhiyi blanked for a second, then wheeled over bumpily.

In moments, snow layered thick; the chair struggled. It looked ready to tip, and for some reason, Shi Qingyi’s heart stung.

Feeling sorry, she hurried over and steadied the nearly falling person.

The instant they touched, Jiang Zhiyi yanked her into a fierce hug, so tight Shi Qingyi could barely breathe. Skin to skin, she felt the violent tremors wracking her.

After a long while, she finally spoke, grinding out through clenched teeth: “Qingyi…”

—Grievance like a whimper.

Shi Qingyi’s heart ached. Her palm stroked the long hair, again and again.

Jiang Zhiyi clung, eyes red: “Don’t you want me anymore? Are you leaving?”

Shi Qingyi felt a bit stifled in her heart, but she still earnestly explained, “I said I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to go home with you. Do you believe me?”

She had thought Jiang Zhiyi would definitely say she didn’t believe her, but Jiang Zhiyi merely shook her head—not knowing whether she was deceiving herself or Shi Qingyi—and softly replied, “I believe you. No matter what you say, I believe it…”

I believe everything, she thought, as long as you’re still willing to deceive me a little.