A few minutes later, Tan Qingya—the guest whose notoriously picky palate had earned her acclaim from the city’s top chefs—stared thoughtfully at the bowl of boiled dumplings before her.
Zhou Jianghao wouldn’t have dragged her to some roadside stall. Instead, she’d chosen a modest little eatery that Tan Qingya had visited a couple of times before. But even after they sat down, Zhou Jianghao couldn’t shake the feeling that her companion still looked utterly out of place.
Every gesture from Tan Qingya exuded an air of refined elegance, making it seem as though seating her here was an imposition.
Zhou Jianghao carefully poured some vinegar for Tan Qingya, then placed the small dish in front of her with equal care. Only then did she say, “The vinegar here is especially good.”
Could vinegar even be good or bad? Wasn’t it all just that same sharp, tangy bite?
Tan Qingya couldn’t quite follow this young woman’s train of thought, but it was rare to see her with such youthful energy and spark, so she didn’t dampen the mood. With a dignified nod, she replied, “Alright then, I’ll give it a try.”
A bit awkwardly, she picked up a pair of disposable chopsticks, speared a dumpling, dipped it in the vinegar dish, and then slowly brought it to her lips for a delicate bite.
Her movements were all grace and poise—until the sourness hit her. She nearly lost her composure.
Was this something people actually ate?
She couldn’t hold back; her face twisted in a sour grimace. Lifting her eyes, she found Zhou Jianghao staring at her in stunned silence.
Tan Qingya’s expression froze. Forcing herself to play it cool despite her discomfort, she said, “Not bad. It’s got a strong flavor.”
Sensing that Zhou Jianghao was about to say something, her eyebrows twitched, and she cut her off preemptively. “Why did you choose Li Tongan, anyway?”
But Zhou Jianghao didn’t take the hint. She frowned, her face tinged with apology. “Sorry, President Tan. I thought you’d like it.”
From Tan Qingya’s reaction, though, it was clear she hated sour things.
“It’s fine,” Tan Qingya said, her face burning. She clenched her teeth and turned her head away, stubbornly shifting the topic again. Without thinking, the words tumbled out. “Earlier, I said you could pick anyone from the Tan family. Why not aim higher? I’m unmarried too.”
The moment the words left her mouth, Tan Qingya frowned.
How had she blurted out something so demeaning to her own status? Adults knew to hint subtly, not plunge each other into this kind of awkwardness.
She took a deep breath, about to smooth it over, when Zhou Jianghao’s voice cut in. “President Tan, I can tell a joke from the truth.”
Tan Qingya paused, but Zhou Jianghao’s eyes were utterly earnest.
After a beat of silence, she asked in surprise, “How could you be so sure I was joking?”
“Wasn’t I right?” Zhou Jianghao gripped her chopsticks tighter. “Do you really want to marry me?”
Tan Qingya was stumped.
She hadn’t truly considered marriage at all, but her competitive streak flared at being cornered like this, leaving her unwilling to back down.
Raising an eyebrow, she shot back, “I haven’t thought about marriage yet, true. But I’m curious—if I need a spouse and you need one too, what’s so strange about us pairing up?”
“It’s very strange.” Zhou Jianghao was relieved she hadn’t taken Tan Qingya’s words at face value. With a serious expression, she said, “Please don’t joke like that anymore, President Tan.”
Someone might take it seriously.
Zhou Jianghao’s face was deadly earnest, and she actually looked a little angry. Tan Qingya lowered her gaze and said crisply, “My apologies. I overstepped.”
Seeing this, Zhou Jianghao’s fingers curled slightly.
The Tan Qingya before her was nothing like the Tan family she’d imagined—proud and elegant, yet willing to apologize when she felt she’d offended someone.
Suppressing a strange flutter in her chest, she murmured, “It’s okay.”
The two fell quiet again. Zhou Jianghao kept her head down, focusing intently on her dumplings. After a moment’s silence, Tan Qingya slid her business card across the table. “Think it over carefully. If you change your mind about anything, feel free to contact me.”
Not three seconds later, she couldn’t resist adding, “Though, Miss Zhou, if I may be so bold— what exactly do you find strange about it?”
If it was a matter of family background, wouldn’t marrying Li Tongan be just as strange?
Tan Qingya looked like she was waiting for an answer. Zhou Jianghao froze again, not reaching for the card. Instead, she asked in bewilderment, “Why wouldn’t it be strange? We’re not compatible at all.”
They were worlds apart.
If Tan Qingya wanted to marry, a horde of socialites from their circles would be lining up for the alliance. There was no reason to come to her.
Suddenly, she eyed the other woman warily.
So what was Tan Qingya after?
“President Tan has so many better options. You can’t seriously want me as your wife.”
“Don’t worry, it was just idle chat.” Zhou Jianghao’s gaze was too unguarded, so Tan Qingya soothed her. After a few seconds of thought, she pondered the reasons she could tolerate for making Zhou Jianghao her partner and explained patiently, “There are plenty of choices, sure, but that doesn’t mean I’d like any of them. As for you—you’re exceptional. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Because you think I’m exceptional, you’d pick me?” Zhou Jianghao feigned confusion. “But there are plenty of people more exceptional than me in the world.”
Now it was her turn to press relentlessly.
Tan Qingya chuckled. “Beyond your excellence, there are other reasons. For one, you’re a lot like my Little Beauty.”
Seeing the puzzled look, she explained gently, “That’s my German shepherd.”
“…”
Seeing Zhou Jianghao go quiet again, Tan Qingya smiled. Plenty of people thought the name didn’t suit such a majestic, imposing dog, but from the first moment she’d laid eyes on Silly Dog, she’d found her stunningly beautiful.
Just like her first impression of Zhou Jianghao—even a bit disheveled, she was still striking.
She went on, “I figure it’d be easier to live with a partner whose temperament matches the family pet. We should get along just fine.”
“Plus, you’re very beautiful.”
The kind of beauty that caught the eye and lingered in the mind.
The more she spoke, the less self-conscious Tan Qingya felt. Smiling, she recalled the occasional glimpses of insecurity and added, “You’re a very impressive young woman.”
But Zhou Jianghao seemed distracted, as if she hadn’t really heard. Instead, she asked abruptly, “So, President Tan, what do you think marriage is?”
“Marriage?” Tan Qingya faltered. She’d never given it much thought and wasn’t sure how to answer. After mulling it over, she said, “Loyalty, responsibility, and respect.”
She thought she’d answered sincerely, but Zhou Jianghao’s reaction was unexpected. She said nothing, her brows knitting tightly.
It took Tan Qingya a few dazed seconds to realize that their exchange had sounded just like a blind date conversation.
But she hadn’t meant it that way—not really.
And clearly, Zhou Jianghao had no interest in marrying her either, judging by how fiercely her brows were furrowed.
Her phone rang suddenly.
Tan Qingya exhaled imperceptibly in relief. She set down her chopsticks unhurriedly and said to her companion, “Excuse me, I need to take this call.”
With that, she stood and stepped away to a quieter corner, phone in hand.
It was her mother.
“Qingya, where are you right now?”
Tan Qingya replied offhandedly, “Don’t worry, Mom—I’m handling business.”
“Business?” Old Madam Tan’s voice turned stern. “What business could be more important than your lifelong happiness, Qingya…”
“This is about my lifelong happiness.” Tan Qingya interrupted, a hint of impatience creasing her brow.
Even if it wasn’t hers.
Old Madam Tan fell silent on the other end.
After a long pause, she spoke up. “Mm. Then Mother won’t disturb you. Be thorough, be patient, and keep your eyes wide open.”
“Family background doesn’t matter—we Tans are already the most prominent house around. What counts is mutual affection. Don’t go imitating your eldest sister, stirring up trouble everywhere.”
“Got it.”
When Tan Qingya returned to the table after hanging up, Zhou Jianghao was still wearing that stern little frown, looking quite serious.
