Chapter 95 Part 3

Compared to the wisdom of the older generation, robots were far inferior—even to her, a total newbie who’d only just grasped the rules.

She withdrew regretfully.

Nan Qi couldn’t bear to see her looking so defeated. She reached out and pressed down on Tang Lian’s shoulder, halting her attempt to stand. “Don’t go. I’ll teach you how to play.”

Tang Lian blinked in confusion. Teach her how? Right here at the table?

She didn’t notice how the faces of everyone who’d been winning so effortlessly moments ago had all drained of color in unison.

A new round of mahjong began. Tang Lian sorted her tiles as usual, her body going unnaturally rigid. She could feel Nan Qi’s breath warm against the back of her neck. Nan Qi was leaning right against her, staring intently at the tiles in her hand without saying a word. She was clearly planning to coach her on the spot.

Tang Lian pinched a tile between her fingers, about to discard it, when Nan Qi stopped her at the crucial moment. Instead, Nan Qi plucked a different tile from the remaining stack and tossed it out, completely disrupting the opponents’ path to victory.

They won that round handily, recouping every bit of money Tang Lian had lost earlier in one fell swoop.

“Wow, Big Sister, you’re amazing!” Tang Lian whispered in Nan Qi’s ear, beaming as she swept the thick stack of bills toward herself.

Nan Qi remained utterly nonchalant about it, simply gesturing for Tang Lian to start the next round.

Ever since Nan Qi had first picked up mahjong and other board games, she’d been a legend in the neighborhood—a ten-wins-out-of-ten kind of player, the sort who could make a fortune off it. Anyone who sat at her table ended up like a walking money donor.

Fortunately, her ambitions lay elsewhere. She rarely touched the cards on a normal day. No one had expected her to step up today for a friend’s sake, abandoning her usual low profile to unleash a ferocious onslaught. She crushed them without mercy, emptying their wallets while her own pile of winnings grew taller and taller before her, forming a veritable little hill.

She was having the time of her life.

“Ah Qi, call it quits.”

“That’s enough, that’s enough. If we keep going, Uncle Gui will have to kneel on the washboard when he gets home.”

“You can still kneel on the washboard? Me, I’d probably not even make it through the front door.”

The relatives dropped their elder pretenses, clutching their empty wallets as they begged Nan Qi for mercy. Their expressions even carried a hint of grievance at being utterly dominated by a superior player. Why pick on them, who were leagues below her skill level?

Nan Qi ignored their colorful pleas, focused only on Tang Lian’s feelings. “Having fun winning money?”

Tang Lian answered from the heart. “Loads.”

“Want to keep winning?”

Tang Lian eyed the little hill of cash. They’d already won plenty, and the thrill of being doted on by Nan Qi felt incredible. Still, she didn’t want to spark domestic disasters for the elders back home. After a moment’s thought, she replied with sincere, monk-like zen: “I’m already way ahead of them. That’s more than enough.”

Nan Qi smiled too. It might not have been the most ethical move, but making her girlfriend happy was worth it.

Of course, when Tang Lian wasn’t looking, Nan Qi had quietly returned the winnings to those elders. Her sudden entry into the game had been unfair to them from the start. If she’d announced upfront that she’d be playing, no one would have dared form a table with her. The fact that they’d held out this long was only because of Tang Lian—Nan Qi’s friend. She couldn’t very well clean them out completely.

From the kitchen came the rumbling hum of the range hood, interspersed with the clatter of bowls and chopsticks and a few coughs from someone choking on chili fumes. Warm, everyday sounds filtered through the glass door, not too close, not too far. They wove together like notes in a melody of love.

“Dinner’s ready—” Zhou Ru called out, drawing out the last syllable as she brandished her spatula.

Her words prompted an immediate division of labor. People sprang up to wipe down the table and chairs, fetch bowls and plates, serve the dishes and rice. Everyone gathered around, toasting and celebrating the New Year with joy.

They tuned into the annual Spring Festival Gala and joined the host in the countdown: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. At the stroke of midnight, the new year arrived. They turned to those beside them: “Happy New Year!”

Last year’s events drew to a close in that instant, transforming into fresh memories.

With guests in the house, Zhou Ru and her husband had to sleep on the sofa. There were no extra rooms for Tang Lian.

They apologized sheepishly to her, asking if she could make do sharing the single bed with Nan Qi—or perhaps book a hotel for more comfort.

Tang Lian had no objections whatsoever. In fact, she declared on the spot that she could happily share a single bed with Nan Qi every single night.

The bed was small, which meant they could snuggle even closer.

How could the Nan couple fathom the twists and turns in her mind? They only saw her in an even better light. What a thoughtful girl—associating with someone like her every day would fill Nan Qi’s life with nothing but positive energy.

On the first day of the new year, Nan Qi cracked her eyes open to the aroma of breakfast. Zhou Ru was cooking chicken soup noodles.

At the same time, she felt an increasingly tight sensation of restraint around her body.

She glanced down. Tang Lian had her completely pinned, limbs wrapped around her like a lock, rendering her immobile.

Tang Lian was sleeping soundly, brows furrowed tightly as if gripped by some dream, hugging her even harder.

“Lianlian, wake up.” Nan Qi gently patted the girl’s soft, pink apple cheeks.

The woman stirred awake at her soft call.

She struggled to pry open her heavy eyelids, her mind sluggish. It took dozens of seconds to register where she was, then to anxiously confirm that Nan Qi was still beside her. Only then did she relax.

She’d had a terrifying dream. In it, she was at her wedding with Nan Qi. Everything had gone smoothly—the entire ceremony, right up to exchanging rings and the priest announcing the kiss. Then disaster struck. Someone in a mask burst into the venue, grabbed Nan Qi, and dashed off, brazenly barreling through the vast hall. The guests rushed to block them, but not one succeeded.

In that instant, Tang Lian had hiked up her skirt to give chase. But the stilettos and the form-fitting mermaid gown with its elaborate train severely hampered her speed. The distance between her and the intruder grew, becoming an uncrossable chasm.

In utter desperation, she kicked off her heels, tore the skirt’s train to shreds, and pursued in tattered, disheveled desperation.

They burst out of the venue onto the street. The thief made a beeline for a black Audi idling ahead. Just as they yanked open the door, Tang Lian lunged forward, finally seizing their wrist and ripping off the mask.

The mask clattered to the ground, revealing the face beneath in the sunlight.

Tang Lian peered closely—and it hit her like a bolt from the blue. That face belonged to Bo Ranying!

Even in her dreams, Bo Ranying was trying to steal her away.

After breakfast, Nan Qi, Tang Lian, and Nan Xi gave New Year’s greetings to Zhou Ru and Nan Father, receiving red packets of equal value in return.

Tang Lian, acting like a little money-grubber, solemnly stashed her wallet into a hidden compartment in her suitcase right in front of everyone. She called it “prosperity money” from Nan Qi’s mom—something significant that needed careful safekeeping, not to be spent lightly.

Zhou Ru smiled at Tang Lian, then at Nan Qi, who hadn’t budged from her side.

Even though she’d seen it before, she couldn’t help but feel curious now.

“Little Tang, how exactly did you and our Nan Qi get so close? Weren’t you afraid of freezing up around her?”

Tang Lian recalled that first heart-stirring glance at Nan Qi, followed by her bold invasion into Nan Qi’s life—the orchestrated “chance” encounters, forcing their way into acquaintance, all the way to their current intimate relationship as lovers. It was just like one of those married-first-love-later romance novels, sweet enough to make her lips curve even now.

But the details of how their relationship had heated up weren’t exactly suitable to share with Zhou Ru.

So she played along with the joke. “If Nan Qi’s ice, then I’m a volcano. Even the hardest ice melts when tossed into one. She can’t freeze me out.”

“Hahaha, Little Tang, you’ve got a real knack for humor.”

Tang Lian neither confirmed nor denied it.

Her eyes darted thoughtfully, and she leaned in to whisper to Zhou Ru, “Auntie, you’ve asked me so much. Can you tell me about Nan Qi in return? Let’s swap intel.”

Zhou Ru’s interest piqued. “Sounds like something out of a spy thriller.” Just like the anti-Japanese drama she’d been hooked on lately—two episodes every weekend at 7:30 p.m. No new ones today since it was a workday.

She whispered back, “Let me think.”

What about Nan Qi needed special mentioning?

The Nan Qi that Tang Lian wanted to know about was probably the one from before she started working.

Zhou Ru pondered for a few seconds, then suggested, “Want to see photos of Nan Qi from childhood to now? I’ve got some little stories from her past too. You might like them—I’ll tell you everything.”

Tang Lian agreed eagerly. She shook off Nan Qi, warning her not to follow, then trailed after Zhou Ru into the study at a leisurely pace to hear tales from the past.

The first thing that caught her eye was an entire wall plastered with certificates—all the honors Nan Qi had earned as a student, stretching across the surface in a continuous display. “Three Good Student,” “First in Year-End Exams, XX Grade,” and the like.

In the corner sat some volleyballs from her childhood playdays, along with toys.

Tang Lian approached the wall of certificates, starting from the earliest dated one and scanning them one by one. It was like retracing Nan Qi’s brilliant path through time.