Chapter 8: Can We Add Each Other as Friends?

If she didn’t like someone, no matter how hard others tried to get close, Tan Qingya wouldn’t give them the time of day.

Thinking of her daughter’s sudden return to the country, the Old Madam pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a soft sigh.

Lately, a non-marriage craze had swept through the country. They’d even formed an officially recognized Non-Marriage Clan, complete with proper registration in personal records.

Once registered, it was official—no marriage allowed, or it would violate the rules and land you in jail.

Her daughter had returned at just this critical moment. Who knew if she was thinking about that? The worry had kept the Old Madam from sleeping well for days.

With that in mind, she sighed inwardly and decided to play the bad guy.

“You know how those other girls avoid you like the plague. A forced marriage isn’t happy, and I can’t bring myself to push one on you—I’m sure you couldn’t either.”

Zhou Jianghao’s face paled. She knew it was the truth.

“But besides them, I still have one daughter who’s unmarried. If you want to marry into the Tan Family, Qingya is your only option.”

Having lived this long, the Old Madam threw caution to the wind. She spent a good while half-coaxing, half-scaring her, then abruptly changed tack. Narrowing her eyes, she said, “Your mother’s illness requires a lot of money, doesn’t it?”

Though it was terminal and her days were numbered, it wouldn’t end quickly. She’d need money to keep her going for now. Zhou Jianghao’s face grew even paler. She’d taken out loans and borrowed heavily during this time.

So what was the Old Madam getting at? Several unpleasant possibilities flashed through Zhou Jianghao’s mind.

“You’re practically a child of the Tan Family,” the Old Madam sighed, handing over the card she’d prepared earlier. “If you’re in trouble, you have to tell the family. How can a young girl like you handle something this big on her own?”

Zhou Jianghao froze, at a loss for words. All the dark suspicions that had just formed in her head crumbled.

It was simple, unfamiliar kindness.

She wanted to refuse, but the image of Zhou Qiu lying in her hospital bed stopped her. In the end, she reached out and took the card, her voice hoarse. “Thank you, Grandma.”

Seeing how compliant she was, the Old Madam breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to respond when she caught the wrong form of address. Her expression grew subtly amused, but she kept her face straight. “Call me Auntie.”

The implication was clear.

Zhou Jianghao pressed her lips together. “I’m not worthy of President Tan.”

“I never cared about family background or matching status. None of that matters to me. As long as she’s happy and can spend her life with someone she loves, I’m content.” The Old Madam sighed. “You know about this Non-Marriage Clan trend lately, right? If Qingya joins that… Little Hao, as a mother, I’m terrified.”

She had had her daughter late in life, and the time she could spend with Qingya was already short.

In just a few years, she’d be in her coffin, but her Qingya would be entering the freest, most vibrant phase of her life. Qingya had always been distant with family ties, and her relationship with her older sister and the rest had never been good. If she joined the Non-Marriage Clan too, wouldn’t she end up alone forever?

The Old Madam didn’t even want to imagine what it would feel like for her daughter to grow old in isolation.

She didn’t need contrived excuses—just voicing her true feelings was enough to move the girl in front of her.

By the end, she wiped the corner of her eye and took Zhou Jianghao’s hand, saying softly, “Little Hao, Auntie doesn’t mean anything else. I just don’t want my child to end up alone forever. Can you understand?”

Zhou Jianghao had been bewildered from start to finish.

The usually authoritative and stern Old Madam was holding her hand, speaking gently, tears glistening in her eyes. She really did match what Tan Qingya had said before leaving.

She looked just like any kindhearted old lady.

“Mm.” It took a long while before Zhou Jianghao responded uncomfortably.

“Ah, what a good girl.” A sly glint flashed in the old fox’s eyes as she quickly continued, “Your mother must feel the same way I do—worried about you. Qingya has always been the most outstanding child from a young age. Her temper might be a bit sharp, but she’s top-notch in every other way, especially her character. She’s no playboy type. If you marry her, both your mother and you can rest easy.”

The Old Madam said this without a shred of guilt.

Her Qingya was the most exceptional child in the world. Top grades from childhood on, quick to learn anything, with a photographic memory.

Just a bit short-tempered.

She lacked patience for everything, seeming uninterested in it all, utterly desireless. It drove the Old Madam crazy.

She only hoped Qingya’s interest in Zhou Jianghao wouldn’t fade so quickly.

…

“What did my mom say to you?”

On the way back, Tan Qingya glanced at Zhou Jianghao, who had been lost in thought since getting in the car.

“Nothing much.” Zhou Jianghao’s lashes fluttered as she shook her head quickly. The Old Madam had warned her not to repeat it.

But that answer was too evasive for Tan Qingya to miss. In the end, it all boiled down to marriage. She reassured her, “Your mom just wants you to have a good future, right? It doesn’t have to be the Tan Family. Take your time looking.”

Zhou Jianghao stayed silent.

Take her time?

Until when? Until her mother died, or until Tan Qingya joined the Non-Marriage Clan and she ended up married to some awful person?

“President Tan… have you ever thought about getting married?” She couldn’t help probing.

“Of course.” Tan Qingya’s tone was lazy. “I thought about it when I was four. Every time I saw Tan Yanxi—oh, my big sister—and her husband each with someone else on their arms, I thought marriage sounded pointless.”

“…”

Sensing the silence beside her, Tan Qingya’s lips curved slightly. “Don’t worry, the Tan Family won’t dare pull that now.”

After all, the Old Madam’s example-making had worked wonders. Who would dare mess around?

Abruptly, her thoughts halted.

Actually, there was one.

Remembering Li Tongan’s swollen belly, Tan Qingya rubbed her brow, her face aching.

She glanced at Zhou Jianghao beside her. The girl was still spaced out, seemingly oblivious to the slip in her words.

Tan Qingya tapped thoughtfully on her phone screen. In the quiet car, the dull knocking echoed, but Zhou Jianghao—who was usually as tense as a scout—showed no reaction.

Tan Qingya grew irritated.

Tch, what exactly had she said?

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

It wasn’t until they got out of the car that Zhou Jianghao seemed to snap back, staring straight at her with utter seriousness. “What President Tan said…”

Tan Qingya furrowed her brow and cut her off. “It counts.”

Did she seem that unreliable? Did a single promise need endless verification?

Or…

Recalling how the girl had just asked if she’d ever considered marriage, Tan Qingya’s fingers tightened slightly. Could this girl really be bold enough to want to marry her?

The girl looked nervous, head bowed, her long, thick black lashes trembling. She seemed both pitiful and adorable.

That feeling came again.

Like seeing Little Beauty—strange, making her want to scoop her up, take her home, and keep her there.

Suddenly, the girl looked up, and their eyes met unexpectedly. Tan Qingya didn’t look away, boldly raising a brow at her.

“Okay then,” Zhou Jianghao said. “Please take the trouble, President Tan, to help me keep an eye out and pick a wife who’s upright, from a good family, and devoted to me alone.”

She said it so earnestly that Tan Qingya blanked for a few seconds before realizing the girl hadn’t considered her at all. She couldn’t help looking at her dubiously. Was she that unappealing in her eyes?

And why the sudden rush to marry? She’d seemed so opposed before.

Maybe she’d made some deal with the Old Madam.

“Sure.” She agreed lazily.

No big deal—the fire wouldn’t burn her.

Zhou Jianghao’s hand was still gripping the car door. After getting the response, she didn’t leave right away. Instead, she frowned, hesitating as if she wanted to say more.

Seeing such vivid emotions on that usually pale, expressionless face made Tan Qingya want to laugh.

“Something else?” she asked patiently.

“Can we add each other as friends?” Zhou Jianghao’s face flushed crimson, as if it might bleed. Gritting her teeth, she finally got the words out. She rarely did things like this—it was mortifying beyond words.