“Are you talking about me?” Zhou Jianghao asked, her gaze icy.
Nothing was more mortifying than getting caught badmouthing someone red-handed. In the past, the Tan Family juniors might have brushed it off or even mocked and humiliated Zhou Jianghao. But now, they all shot to their feet, scrambling to explain in a panic:
“I didn’t say a single word!”
“Me neither!”
“Heaven can attest to it. When I heard her talking about you like that, I was this close to getting angry.”
…
Only Li Yunyan kept a cold expression on her face, baffled by how this group of women were fawning over Zhou Jianghao like utter simps.
Zhou Jianghao’s gaze settled on the heiress. “I remember you.”
With those four words, she calmly withdrew her gaze and strode right past them.
Everyone fell silent for a moment before turning toward the heiress in unison, their faces mingling sympathy with a touch of schadenfreude.
“What does she mean by that?” the heiress asked, her heart fluttering anxiously as she forced the words out.
The others mumbled vague responses, not daring to elaborate.
Meanwhile, Old Madam Tan sighed with lingering regret. “I wanted them to hold the banquet sooner. It’s been ages since the Tan Family had any cause for celebration. But Qingya dotes on her so much—she was worried about the winter chill—so they set the date for next spring.”
“Oh, I had no idea Qingya was quite so doting!”
“Isn’t she, though?” Old Madam Tan lifted her chin with smug pride, then added with pointed meaning, “She treats her like the apple of her eye, fiercely protective, not tolerating a single word against her wife.”
“This trait must come from me, though. I’m the same way—protective to a fault, getting revenge for any slight against my people, no matter how small.”
So don’t go gossiping about her Little Hao behind her back.
“Little Aunt Mom, thank you for coming today,” Li Tongan said gratefully from inside the room.
Zhou Jianghao was gazing absently down at the baby in the crib. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the same child she’d seen last time. How to put it? They looked like two completely different babies.
Stories of babies switched at birth, so common on the news and TV shows, sprang to mind. She turned to Li Tongan. “Are you sure this is your child? No mix-up?”
The seriousness on her face made Li Tongan’s heart clench, and she panicked instinctively. “N-no… right? What’s wrong?”
Zhou Jianghao hesitated for a long moment before venturing, “She didn’t look like this last time I saw her. She’s changed so much—it doesn’t seem like your daughter.”
…
After what felt like forever, Li Tongan hemmed and hawed. “Babies change every single day, you know.”
She paused, looking a bit embarrassed. “This one’s been by my side since birth, never left once. Sorry, but I’m absolutely sure she’s mine.”
“Ah…” Zhou Jianghao’s ear tips flushed red in an instant. She pursed her lips and averted her gaze uncomfortably. “Sorry. I might be face-blind.”
The two women stared at each other for a few seconds before simultaneously looking away. The entire room plunged into silence.
Nothing was more excruciating than two social recluses trapped alone in a room together. The quiet deepened abruptly, the air growing thick with awkwardness.
As if sensing her mother’s plight, the little infant scrunched up her tiny mouth and burst into wails, finally shattering the tension.
Tan Qingya, fresh from having her makeup and hair done, paused in the doorway.
“She’s crying.” Zhou Jianghao, who had been closest to the crib, took a giant step back and collided straight into Tan Qingya’s arms. Tan Qingya had barely steadied her when Zhou Jianghao whipped around, her face full of helpless panic. “I didn’t touch her. It wasn’t me.”
She looked just like someone who’d accidentally stumbled onto a crime scene and was now caught red-handed, desperately pleading her innocence.
Tan Qingya stifled a laugh, took her hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I know. It wasn’t you.”
With that, she turned to the stunned Li Tongan, her expression cooling into indifference. “Hungry or soiled? Handle it.”
“Right away, right away!”
Li Tongan fumbled in a panic. Tan Qingya’s mere presence left her hands trembling so badly she nearly dropped the baby while picking her up.
Seeing Li Tongan go pale with fright, Zhou Jianghao suddenly recalled how terrified of Tan Qingya she herself had once been.
She’d thought she’d hidden it well. Was it really that obvious?
Her cheeks burned hot. Noticing how ill at ease Li Tongan still was, she looped her arm through Tan Qingya’s. “I’m a bit thirsty.”
The two shared an instant rapport. Tan Qingya caught on right away. “I’ll take you to get some water.”
Zhou Jianghao nodded, then glanced back at Li Tongan. “Li Tongan, I’ll come by again later.”
“Right, right.” Li Tongan visibly relaxed at the words, nodding vigorously like a pestle in a mortar. “Little Aunt, Little Aunt Mom, take your time.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Zhou Jianghao caught sight of Li Tongan starting to lift her shirt. She nearly tripped over her own feet and face-planted, but Tan Qingya caught her firmly at the last second.
“No rush. Walk slowly.”
“Mm.”
Zhou Jianghao nodded haphazardly and didn’t dare look back. It was still early, so the two of them found an empty room to hole up in together.
With just the two of them inside and the outside clamor shut away, Zhou Jianghao finally relaxed. She looked at Tan Qingya and couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you cold dressed like that?”
Tan Qingya wore only a golden mermaid gown, a fur stole draped over her shoulders. She radiated nobility, looking both elegant and commanding—truly outshining the crowd.
But all Zhou Jianghao could think was how chilly she must be.
“Not cold.” Tan Qingya lifted a hand to adjust her fur stole with cool poise. “Don’t you think it looks beautiful?”
She shot Zhou Jianghao a flirtatious, captivating glance.
Of course it was beautiful.
She resembled a seductive fairy, so stunning she stole one’s breath away. Even seeing her every day, even sharing a bed every night, Zhou Jianghao still found herself mesmerized, unable to tear her eyes away.
Tan Qingya was so beautiful she hardly seemed like a mortal from this world.
She was like a goddess enthroned above, beyond any profane touch.
Zhou Jianghao pursed her lips tighter and clasped Tan Qingya’s chilled hand. “Stubborn as ever. Your hand’s practically an ice block.”
She’d only just recovered from a cold—what if she caught another chill from dressing so scantily?
“No worries.” Tan Qingya brushed it off. “I’ll just make a quick appearance and head out right after.”
All that effort on makeup and hair for an entire afternoon, just to endure the cold for a fleeting moment.
Zhou Jianghao couldn’t fathom it, but if Tan Qingya enjoyed it, that was fine.
After a moment’s thought, she pulled out her phone. “Mind if I take a photo?”
“Hm?” Tan Qingya arched a brow.
“You went through so much for this beauty. I want to save it to look at over and over.” Zhou Jianghao’s face was utterly earnest.
The way she said it so solemnly was too adorable. Tan Qingya couldn’t resist leaning down for another kiss. Seeing her own lipstick mark on Zhou Jianghao’s lips, she curved her mouth into a brilliant smile. “Exactly. You have to photograph your wife’s beauty to savor it time and again.”
She posed with Zhou Jianghao for a few shots, then snatched her phone and switched it to selfie mode. “Come on, come on—a little couple’s selfie for the memories.”
Zhou Jianghao scooted closer, their shoulders brushing as they faced the lens.
That evening, Tan Qingya posted the selfie to her WeChat Moments.
Tan Qingya looked radiant and luminous, as if glowing from within. Yet Zhou Jianghao, nestled intimately against her, shone just as brightly.
The moon never dims another light; it simply casts its glow upon them, making them shine together.
The two of them framed side by side looked perfectly harmonious and lovely.
Auntie Chen, ever the 5G surfing speed demon, was first to like and comment:
— Gorgeous as celestial fairies. Slain by you two ladies’ beauty yet again today (^^)
Not long after, Old Madam chimed in with her own like and comment:
— My goodness, just these two pretty faces are enough to let this old bag of bones pack away two extra bowls of rice!
Tan Qingya posted so rarely that this sudden show of affection exploded across her feed. Likes and comments flooded in, too many to count.
Tan Qingya didn’t bother checking them. She looked up instead at the photo’s other subject.
Zhou Jianghao still hadn’t noticed the post. She sat cross-legged on the bed, chatting away with someone.
Tan Qingya furrowed her brows and cleared her throat pointedly. Before she could get a word out, Zhou Jianghao’s gaze snapped over. “Caught a cold?”
It had all the makings of an incoming lecture.
“Impossible!” Tan Qingya shot back swiftly.
She got to the point, pointing at her phone. “I posted to Moments. Did you like it yet?”
She actually hadn’t.
Zhou Jianghao’s stern momentum evaporated in an instant. She snatched up her phone to hunt for Tan Qingya’s WeChat. “Right away.”
Tan Qingya was her sole pinned contact—easy to spot.
One tap, and there was the photo. An irrepressible smile lit Zhou Jianghao’s face. “Looks great.”
She glanced up instinctively. “What made you post a face-revealing photo of us on Moments all of a sudden?”
As far as she knew, Tan Qingya disliked having her picture taken.
She especially hated posting face shots or videos on social media.
“My wife’s too beautiful. Had to show her off a bit.”
Tan Qingya replied without the slightest hesitation.
Zhou Jianghao burst into laughter.
She got it, that feeling.
She often wanted to broadcast to the whole world that Tan Qingya was her wife. Not out of smugness over riding the coattails of the Tan Family head.
No—it was the sheer joy of having earned her place at Tan Qingya’s side, a joy she desperately wanted to share. It had nothing to do with status. It was simply because Tan Qingya was the one she loved.
Yes, she knew it crystal clear now: she had fallen utterly, completely for Tan Qingya.
