Chapter 25: This Was Pathological

The stairwell plunged back into darkness.

Zhou Jianghao quietly glanced at Tan Qingya, wanting to speak but holding back. Sister Liu was the type who loved gossip and never forgot a thing. Tan Qingya had just mentioned inviting her to the wedding banquet—Sister Liu would probably hold onto that forever.

But how could Tan Qingya possibly invite Sister Liu to a wedding banquet?

Leaving aside whether the two of them would even hold one, with the Tan Family’s power and influence, she would never invite ordinary people from her circle anyway.

An empty promise she couldn’t keep would only invite gossip behind her back.

Tan Qingya stopped in her tracks and turned to Zhou Jianghao, who had been acting strangely since earlier. With certainty in her voice, she said, “What do you want to tell me?”

Before Zhou Jianghao could respond, she added swiftly, “Be honest.”

“…”

After a brief silence, Zhou Jianghao lowered her head and said softly, “You just said you’d invite Sister Liu to the wedding banquet. She’ll take you seriously.”

Tan Qingya raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What, do you think I’m lying?”

Zhou Jianghao didn’t answer directly but asked in return, “Would you invite her?”

“Of course,” Tan Qingya nodded. “But only if you want to invite her too.”

Zhou Jianghao hesitated. “The people around me are all ordinary. They’ve never been to a big family’s banquet, and they don’t have fancy dresses…”

Suddenly, her hand was clasped.

Meeting Tan Qingya’s deep, abyss-like eyes, Zhou Jianghao’s words died on her lips. She realized she’d gotten a bit too worked up just now. It wasn’t just the people around her who were ordinary—she was too.

“Why worry about that?” Tan Qingya’s tone carried a note of confusion as she held Zhou Jianghao’s hand, her touch warm and soft.

“A lot of places hold two wedding banquets—one on my side, one on yours.”

“Whatever kind of banquet you want, I’ll do everything I can to make it happen.”

Zhou Jianghao couldn’t help but squeeze Tan Qingya’s hand in return.

It was a strange sensation.

Like a small boat adrift and uncertain on the open sea, suddenly finding a safe harbor.

“How about it?”

Sensing the movement, Tan Qingya extended her other hand, enveloping Zhou Jianghao’s completely and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Mm, thank you… you.”

The words “President Tan” stuck in her throat, nearly slipping out.

But reason won out at the last second, and she swallowed them back—still spooked by Tan Qingya’s earlier warning that if she called her President Tan again, she’d lean in for a kiss.

Tan Qingya didn’t acknowledge the polite thanks. The two of them resumed climbing the stairs.

They didn’t run into any other residents along the way.

Arm in arm, they returned home like the most ordinary married couple.

“You rest first. I’ll go make you something to eat.”

As she spoke, Tan Qingya instinctively reached to roll up her sleeves, only to feel her smooth forearm and remember she was wearing Zhou Jianghao’s T-shirt.

She glanced down at her outfit and felt a sudden awkwardness. This was already the second set of clothes she’d borrowed from Zhou Jianghao.

They had known each other for a while now, and Zhou Jianghao hadn’t gained a thing from her—in fact, she’d lost two outfits.

Considering Zhou Jianghao’s already sparse closet, Tan Qingya touched her nose, cleared her throat lightly, and asked, “Any food restrictions? Like no green onions, ginger, or garlic?”

“None.”

Zhou Jianghao shook her head, her gaze landing on the bulging bag of vegetables. Most of the supermarket’s evening produce was subpar, but the ones Tan Qingya had bought looked fresh, not like leftovers.

The thought made her look toward Tan Qingya. When their eyes met, her breathing grew shallow without thinking. Tan Qingya was wearing an outfit Zhou Jianghao had worn just days ago—the exact same clothes looked utterly different on her.

And Tan Qingya seemed perfectly at ease. At the moment, she had a hair tie between her teeth, her hands gathered behind her head as she tied her hair into a low ponytail. Her head was slightly bowed, revealing her lovely profile and the delicate curve of her ear, adorned with elegant earrings.

She showed no hint of distaste for the shabby surroundings.

This version of Tan Qingya felt a little unfamiliar, but the distance between them seemed to shrink in an instant.

Tan Qingya was an excellent cook.

Even in these dismal conditions, she managed to prepare the most delicious dishes.

Zhou Jianghao rarely ate until she was stuffed.

Her stomach was small to begin with. Just half a bowl more than usual left her uncomfortably full.

She didn’t let it show. While Tan Qingya washed dishes on the balcony, she slipped a few digestive tablets into her mouth.

Thankfully, they helped somewhat, easing the bloating. But then Zhou Jianghao began fretting over the shower issue.

Her foot injury wasn’t severe, but it was bandaged into a proper pig’s trotter. The doctor had explicitly warned against getting it wet, turning bathing into a major hurdle.

Her apartment was tiny, with only one bed. Tonight, that meant sharing with Tan Qingya.

For that reason alone, she couldn’t crawl into bed next to the fastidious Tan Qingya without showering.

With that in mind, she rose to fetch some clean clothes.

“What are you doing?”

She had just grabbed her bra when Tan Qingya’s voice sounded from behind. Zhou Jianghao’s eyelids twitched, the bra suddenly burning hot in her hand. She snatched a shirt to cover it.

Once the bra was concealed, she turned around. “I want to take a shower.”

Tan Qingya went quiet. Zhou Jianghao wasn’t the sort to throw tantrums like the Tan Family juniors. For her to insist on showering with an injured foot and doctor’s orders against water…

“You have germaphobia?” she asked.

Even as she spoke, her mind raced through memories of how many times she had sat on Zhou Jianghao’s bed.

Suffering from it herself, she well understood that instinctive revulsion at others encroaching on one’s private domain.

But Zhou Jianghao shook her head. “No.”

With that, she lowered her gaze.

Someone as lowly and unremarkable as her didn’t even merit germaphobia. As a child, she had rifled through trash bins for a single plastic water bottle.

Back when she was little, scavenging was routine for the village’s old folks and kids alike—she was no exception. There were far harsher, filthier chores besides. Germaphobia wasn’t even a concept in the village.

But Tan Qingya was different.

Shortly after arriving at the Tan Family, she had learned about their most pampered Second Miss, whose germaphobia was severe.

Back then, she was brand new to it all, timid and cautious.

Even before setting foot in the Tan Family home, the person sent to fetch her had drilled it into her: Never appear filthy before the Tan Family, especially not before Second Miss Tan Qingya—or risk being tossed out.

Her reaction to the name Tan Qingya was little different from a mouse hearing a cat meow.

Tan Qingya was five years her senior. While Zhou Jianghao was in fourth grade, the other was on the cusp of junior high graduation. At fifteen, Tan Qingya was already tall and striking, like a poised little adult wielding unquestioned authority—even greater than that of the Tan Family’s Eldest Miss.

Timid and wary, she feared everything about the Tan Family. Those warnings made the ever-smiling Tan Qingya terrifying above all.

Her smiles were beautiful and radiant, yet the invisible barrier of distance and pressure kept Zhou Jianghao from daring to get close.

And in the Tan Family, she heard more about Tan Qingya than anyone else—that was the first time she encountered the word “germaphobia.” Rumor had it Tan Qingya hated physical contact with others. If touched, she would scrub and wipe obsessively. To Zhou Jianghao, it seemed utterly pathological.