Chapter 21

The hangover headache refused to lift.

Zhou Lang thought for a long time and could only recall that she’d drunk herself into a blackout last night.

She sat on the bed a while. A message from Le Cheng: he was already waiting downstairs.

It was still early, and the car moved slowly.

The window was half down; the morning wind poured in, dispersing the last fumes of alcohol.

There was a short stretch of road before the campus gate. Zhou Lang was discussing work with Le Cheng when she glanced idly out the window—and froze. “Stop!”

Not far off, a flower farmer had spread a stall of blooms on the ground. A woman in a plain long dress, long hair loose over her shoulders, stood with her back to the road, buying flowers.

Zhou Lang stared at that silhouette for two seconds, then shook her head with a small laugh, murmuring to herself, “Mistaken again.”

She turned back. “About that science and technology policy—”

The car moved on.

But two seconds later she jolted. “Stop!”

The woman had just finished her purchase and risen, her smile graceful and composed. She was courteous and gentle to everyone.

It really was her.

Zhou Lang blinked, confirming she hadn’t seen wrong.

This time was different from all the others. So many times before… abroad, she had mistaken strangers for her.

The heart long since accustomed to disappointment was, incredibly, pounding.

Through the window, Zhou Lang watched Ji Xiunian gather the fresh flowers into her arms.

At last, she no longer needed to search foreign shores for figures resembling her.

Everything she’d said to Xue Yining last night… had been a lie, of course.

She was no longer a teenager.

The love and hate of those years had passed too swiftly—but now, there had to be an accounting.

Love her clearly, or hate her clearly.

Le Cheng, seeing her lost in thought, didn’t interrupt—until Zhou Lang asked abruptly, “Le Cheng, do you think I’ve been too emotional lately?”

“Well…”

“Speak plainly.”

“Fine.” Le Cheng rubbed his nose. “You’ve always been the most organized, methodical person. Lately you… keep changing your mind out of nowhere. Ahem. It’s been a bit… hard to keep up.”

He had joined the Zhou family straight out of Stanford and won trust quickly. To him, Zhou Lang was an excellent boss: coolly rational about the work, generous and considerate with people, ferociously self-disciplined—a superior with formidable willpower and execution.

But lately she was… running him ragged.

Like last night, suddenly ordering him to dismiss a class early.

He was good at contract negotiations, tender pricing, all manner of professional matters. This kind of bizarre errand, he could not handle with any dignity.

Zhou Lang smiled. “I know. You’ve been run off your feet too.”

Le Cheng lowered his head. “I’ve spoken frankly. Please don’t dock my salary.”

Zhou Lang extended a hand into the morning sunlight pooling in her palm, her gaze clear and clean. “Mm.”

Everything Le Cheng had said—did she not know it herself?

It was only that anything involving Ji Xiunian made true rationality impossible.

She still didn’t know how to face her. How to face the family business that had been battered for the sake of that love. How to face… that proud girl who had been abandoned—herself.

Only when Ji Xiunian’s figure had vanished entirely did she say, “Drive on.”

Gao Qirui was under suspension investigation, living alone in a small campus apartment. She had just come out of another round of questioning that morning; when the door opened and she saw Zhou Lang, her face darkened. “Come to laugh at me?”

Zhou Lang pulled out a chair, sat, and leaned back, posture lazy, tone idle. “Let’s chat.”

But it was a posture that brooked no refusal.

Gao Qirui snorted. “Chat about what? You and I aren’t close.”

“Let’s chat about what you actually did, back then.”

“Oh, so it’s vengeance for your old flame, is it?”

“Gao Qirui.” Zhou Lang dropped a thick stack of materials on the table. “I’m not requesting this conversation. Look carefully. If I hand these in now, you’ll spend years longer in prison.”

“You—!”

“And one more thing.” Zhou Lang’s fingertip tapped lightly on the tabletop. “Your parents back in your hometown have always been so proud of you. They’re going to learn exactly what kind of person their daughter is—I’ll mail them your court dates. And that’s not all. I’ll post every vile thing you’ve done at the gate of your residential compound, at your primary school, at your middle school. I know ruining other people’s lives with rumors is your greatest talent. So let’s put your own specialty to work and destroy you with it. Happy now?”

The words landed like a slap across Gao Qirui’s face. Her cheeks flamed and she lunged forward, all reason gone. “My parents are old! You’d actually tell them?! Are you even human?!”

Zhou Lang looked at her coldly, pushed back her chair, and rose—then backhanded her across the face, the crack of it sharp and clean. “If you’re going to be a shrew, we have nothing to discuss.”

“You hit—” The blow had been too hard. Gao Qirui crashed to the floor, clutching her swollen cheek, and meeting those icy eyes, quickly changed her tune. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you! Just promise me—don’t go to my hometown—”

“You’re in no position to bargain with me.”

Zhou Lang sat back down and smoothed the creases from her shirt. “Would’ve been simpler to cooperate from the start.”

“First question. When did you learn that I and… that she and I used to be together?”

“After that dorm fight. I saw how worked up Ji Xiunian got over a bag of bread you’d sent her, so…”

Gao Qirui had always had a fine nose for detail. Once she sensed something, she grew careful, secretly following them—and a week later, she actually saw them, beneath the teaching building… kissing.

Her heart had hammered like war drums. Even as she thought the two of them must be sick, a vicious idea took shape.

Zhou Lang’s voice was level. “Second question. You were the one who spread the rumor that she had improper relations with several girls?”

“Yes… She’d gotten the exchange spot. Five spots total. I was sixth. As long as—”

Zhou Lang cut her off. “Understood.”

“Last question. How did the rumor turn into… me being a delusional stalker secretly in love with her?”

“…”

“Speak!”

Zhou Lang’s palm came down on the table with a bang.

“It was… her father. Her father found me and warned me. But he was too busy trying to clear Ji Xiunian’s name to do anything to me.”

“That’s not all, is it?”

“I— that’s… that’s about all I know. I only heard her family took her away afterward.”

Zhou Lang’s heart lurched. The past, so long shrouded in fog, was surfacing piece by piece.

She fought to keep her voice even, but the moment she spoke, it came out hoarse. “Locked… away?”

“I guess? I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Ji Xiunian yourself—”

Zhou Lang’s expression was glacial. “That’s none of your concern.”

She stood to leave. Gao Qirui scrambled up to block her. “You promised! I answered your questions—you can’t hand over those materials, you can’t go to my hometown. You have to keep your word!”

“Oh?” Zhou Lang looked at her, and suddenly her smile was dazzling. “Did I just now say I agreed?”

Gao Qirui froze. What had she just said… She’d said, you’re in no position to bargain with me—

She shrieked and flung herself forward. “Zhou Lang! I’ll kill you!”

Le Cheng stepped neatly into her path.

Zhou Lang smiled courteously at the people outside. “Sorry for the noise.”

“It’s fine. She’s been… a bit unhinged lately. Screaming and yelling all day.”

Zhou Lang nodded politely and walked on.

Le Cheng caught up quickly. “President Zhou, I’ll go handle the follow-up.”

“Go ahead.” Zhou Lang waved a hand. “I’m going to walk around campus.”

She was wandering aimlessly when she ran into Fang Xun and called out to her. “Teacher Fang?”

Fang Xun’s mouth twitched. Why did this calamity keep finding her!

Last night’s chaos at the dance studio—she, gossip connoisseur, had long since heard every detail, and among the students the story had mutated into something unrecognizable: Professor Ji had been marked by a rich woman, coveted and pursued… it got more outrageous by the hour!

Zhou Lang could see the girl was a little afraid of her, and found it amusing. “Where are you headed?”

“Oh, to the college.”

“Same direction, then.”

Fang Xun banished the swirling gossip from her head and kept her social smile fixed. “You’re up early, President Zhou.”

“Some business.”

Zhou Lang gazed into the distance and asked, as if in passing, “Do any of our college’s teachers place in dance competitions?”

“Oh, sure. Teacher Cen won one just this year.”

“Does she teach the students, then?”

“She only teaches theory.”

“Oh. And has Professor Ji ever won any awards?”

Fang Xun’s heart jolted. Here it was—so the rumors weren’t smoke without fire.

She’d already worked out that these two had history.

“Can’t you say?”

“Well…” Fang Xun considered. It wasn’t exactly a secret. “She doesn’t enter those competitions. Something about the intensity being too much, I think.”

“Health reasons?”

“That I really couldn’t say.”

Zhou Lang seemed to have only been making conversation, and fell silent.

Anything else, Fang Xun was too young to know—she wouldn’t know about events from a decade and more ago.

Unless, as Gao Qirui said, she asked Ji Xiunian directly.

But she knew without thinking: no answer would be forthcoming.

Ji Xiunian was gentle with people, but she did not let others into her heart easily. What she refused to speak of, the people she refused to approach… no one could force.

Just like… just like how, knowing Ji Xiunian as long as she had, it had taken her two and a half years—terrified of rejection—before she dared confess.

Fang Xun’s phone rang, and she exhaled in relief. “I’ve got something—need to run to the Student Affairs Office.”

“Mm. Go on.”

Zhou Lang walked toward the Art College.

From far off she saw Ji Xiunian by the flower bed, circling it three times, back and forth.

As if searching for something.

Zhou Lang didn’t approach. She simply watched from a distance.

She watched Ji Xiunian lift her wrist to check the time—probably rushing to class—and hurry away. Only then did she walk over and search for half an hour, until the sunlight caught on metal, glinting… a pearl earring.

Zhou Lang picked it up, wiped the dirt away with a tissue, and slowly closed it in her palm.

This… was something she had once given Ji Xiunian.

She had kept the earrings all this time. The ones she’d given her.

Zhou Lang smiled—then bit her lip and smothered it—and a few seconds later smiled again. The sunlight must be too strong; her eyes were stinging a little.

She fought the smile, over and over, and lost every time. The corners of her mouth curved slowly upward.