Chapter 37

Zhu Jingran couldn’t straighten out the relationship at first.

“President Jun is the one keeping you, right?”

“No, wait, when did President Jun start keeping you?”

Perhaps it was a testament to being close friends, but amidst the fragmented conversation, Zhu Jingran figured out the timeline herself. “…Don’t tell me it’s because of that thing with Chen Shuhua that President Jun started keeping you?”

As an acquaintance, she had paid attention when Xinghua Corporation was in trouble. So, she hadn’t missed the big news of the Jun Group injecting capital into Xinghua later.

“It is.”

Getting confirmation, Zhu Jingran’s expression instantly turned very ugly.

“You’re so foolish, damn it. I know your brain works in weird ways sometimes, but how could you sell yourself out because of someone else?” Zhu Jingran was so angry she scolded her.

“I thought you were dumb enough just giving her all your money back then. Holy shit, I didn’t think you could be this selflessly devoted—sending out your entire fortune while mortgaging yourself at the same time!”

“Cheng Yan, you’ve really outdone yourself. I’m speechless. What the hell were you thinking?”

Zhu Jingran snatched the bottle from her hand, forcing Cheng Yan to look her in the eye. Furious, she demanded, “Tell me, what else have you done? Spill everything honestly today!”

Cheng Yan’s body swayed as Zhu Jingran grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

“No, no, really, that’s it.”

“You’re not lying to me?”

“Why would I lie to you?”

Zhu Jingran’s anger finally stopped escalating further.

But she was still bitter inside, bitter for this fool in front of her.

“Tell me, you don’t care about money, you don’t care about yourself… what do you care about?”

Cheng Yan leaned closer, curling her lips into a smiling, playful expression. “You.”

Zhu Jingran: “…”

Though it was flattering, she still pushed the face away with one hand, snorting coldly. “Doesn’t look to me like you care about me at all. If you did, would you have hidden this from me until now?”

Her face pushed aside, Cheng Yan took the opportunity to grab another bottle, opening it with the opener as she spoke. “Just means it wasn’t important. If it were something important, I definitely would have told you.”

Zhu Jingran’s anger subsided a little more.

How was this girl so good at coaxing people?

Was this the act she put on that fooled President Jun?

“What’s the deal with this keeping arrangement?”

Cheng Yan took a swig straight from the bottle. “Well, as you know, I haven’t been hurt. Actually, when I think about it carefully, I’m the one getting the better end of the deal.”

When she said she was getting the better deal, she laughed softly, as if remembering something pleasant.

“…”

Yeah, that was obvious. You already said you’re interested in her body.

“But I still have to say, wouldn’t it be so much better to just have a normal relationship? Why do you always chase after these thrill-seeking things? I really don’t get it.” Zhu Jingran said, “Find a girlfriend you like, who likes you back. Have a sweet, wonderful romance. How beautiful would that be? Even if you break up later and it doesn’t work out, it’d still be a beautiful memory.”

Cheng Yan stared down at the bottle, unmoving.

“Are you listening to me?”

Cheng Yan lazily raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening. But why are you so pessimistic? Isn’t your relationship going well? Why talk about breaking up in the future while also talking about sweet, wonderful love?”

“I’m speaking hypothetically,” Zhu Jingran emphasized, then sighed. “That’s just how it is. Don’t relationships always start out sweet, and then gradually, conflicts increase, until one day they become impossible to reconcile, and you have to break up?”

“Is that even love?” Cheng Yan murmured.

“What did you say?” Zhu Jingran leaned in to listen carefully, barely catching the gist. She saw Cheng Yan’s cheeks were slightly flushed—the alcohol was definitely hitting her.

Sitting back, Zhu Jingran opened another bottle for herself and answered her question. “Why wouldn’t it be love? Not every couple in love who gets together because of love stays together from beginning to end. That’s a realistic problem you have to consider, right?”

“Of course, who doesn’t want to be with that person forever from the very start? But most are ultimately defeated by reality.”

“Even if the romantic relationship is broken by reality, what brought them together in the first place was still true, sincere love.”

Before either knew it, they had drifted into a heart-to-heart about love.

Zhu Jingran chuckled, realizing this was probably the first time in all the years they’d known each other that they’d talked about this topic.

She looked at Cheng Yan, who was hugging a cushion and getting drowsy, and her smile grew wider, as if discovering a new side to her best friend.

What the hell, so you, of all people, are actually this pure-hearted?

You actually think love that lasts from beginning to end is the only real love, and everything else doesn’t count.

But it wasn’t surprising that Cheng Yan thought this way, right?

Zhu Jingran hugged a cushion, tilting her head to lean on the sofa with Cheng Yan, falling into memories.

She had never had a father growing up. She lived with her mother and grandmother.

From as far back as she could remember, compared to other kids, especially her classmate and friend Cheng Yan, whose parents were deeply in love, Zhu Jingran had always been intensely curious about why she didn’t have a dad.

Why was Cheng Yan’s mother so gentle? Why was Cheng Yan’s father so handsome?

Why did Cheng Yan’s parents always appear together, while her own mother was always alone?

Where was her dad?

Little Zhu Jingran took this question to her mother, who was fixing a car.

She still remembered her mother, absorbed in her work, putting down her tools, taking her hand, and saying earnestly, “Because Mama only wanted Ranran. Ranran’s dad isn’t as cute as Ranran, so Mama didn’t want him anymore. If you want a dad, Mama can take you to meet him.”

Young Zhu Jingran was so flattered by the “Ranran is the cutest” that she blushed and said she didn’t want to see him.

She hadn’t really wanted a dad in the first place. Her mother and grandmother gave her more than enough love. She wasn’t bullied at school for not having a dad—she was just curious. Curious why her friend had a mom and dad, while she only had a mom.

Young Zhu Jingran very naturally convinced herself.

Because she was the cutest.

She had her mother and grandmother; Cheng Yan had her mother and father.

Both were cherished by two people. They were the same.

As she grew older, Zhu Jingran understood that her mother had been the one to dump her biological father.

After seeing countless social news stories and real-life examples—divorces, affairs, cheating, and all sorts of other things—she also fully appreciated how incredible it was for Cheng Yan’s parents’ affection to remain as sweet as ever, for over a decade.

People who knew Cheng Yan’s family would even joke that the parents were the true loves, and the child was just a freebie thrown in.

Cheng Yan’s parents were simply too good together. If true love existed in the world, it had to look exactly like her parents.

From their time before to their passing after, what an enviable couple.

Growing up in such a family, how could Cheng Yan not be influenced by her parents, holding such a pure, innocent expectation for love?

From beginning to end…

Wait, then why didn’t Cheng Yan choose to date, and instead chose to be kept?

Zhu Jingran thought, Now that’s a very good question.

She looked down and saw that a certain someone had already leaned over, hugging a pillow, sleeping soundly on her shoulder.

Zhu Jingran poked her cheek. “Sleep, go ahead and sleep. Keeping everything bottled up inside, and you’re an award-winning actress on top of it. I’ll interrogate you properly someday when I get the chance.”

Gently, she helped the person onto the sofa. Zhu Jingran then collapsed herself and fell asleep.

The next day, when she woke up, the person who had bothered her in the middle of the night was long gone.

Zhu Jingran: “…”

At least you had the decency to clean up the bottles.

On the other side, in the classroom.

“What’s wrong with you today? You’re moving so weirdly.” Jiang Luoying tilted her head and asked Cheng Yan, who was clearly not normal.

Massaging her neck, Cheng Yan hissed, smiling wryly. “Stiff neck.”

Last night, when Zhu Jingran helped her onto the sofa, she had been somewhat conscious.

But Cheng Yan, afraid that if she fully woke up, she’d be interrogated, had simply pretended to stay asleep.

After all, she’d slept on Zhu Jingran’s sofa when they were kids.

But she’d forgotten: when she was little, she was so small, the sofa had plenty of room.

Now, with her long limbs, curling up there was practically a guarantee for a stiff neck.

“Should you go to the infirmary? Get someone to give you a massage?”

Cheng Yan held her stiff neck. “Forget it. It’ll probably be fine tomorrow.”

“Alright. But if it really hurts, definitely go get it looked at. It’ll heal faster.”

Cheng Yan nodded. “Okay.”

By evening, her neck still ached a little, but it was better than the morning.

She found a medicated patch and stuck it on her neck. Thinking for a moment, she took out her phone, snapped a selfie with the camera, deliberately showing the patch.

Then, she bowed her head and edited a post for her social media Moments.

Cheng Yan: Got a stiff neck. Sleeping in an unfamiliar place really is uncomfortable. Hurts all day.

She rarely posted on Moments. Moreover, her Moments were set to be visible for only three days.

Before posting this, Cheng Yan specifically adjusted the visibility settings to one month.

Just in case a certain someone actually didn’t check Moments for three days.

After doing her little experiment and checking her phone, refreshing Moments, there were already some likes and comments below.

Zhu Jingran: Heh, if it’s unfamiliar, then why do you come? And when you leave, you don’t even say a word.

Jiang Luoying: Go to the infirmary! A patch isn’t as good as a real massage or acupuncture!

Unfamiliar classmate: My neck is stiff too, day three now. When will it get better?

…

Jun Lijiang: Stiff neck? I know a doctor. Want a recommendation?

Scrolling through the feed, no activity from a certain person.

Cheng Yan put her phone away and continued focusing on her experiment.

At 8:30 p.m., Cheng Yan came out of the laboratory. The first thing she did was open her phone’s Moments.

That post from earlier had many more likes and comments, but none of them were what she wanted to see.

“…”

“It’s not like I posted it for all of you.”

Cheng Yan felt a little frustrated, staring at the screen and muttering quietly to herself.

But she still bowed her head and earnestly replied to those who cared about her.

—Familiar, familiar. That was a slip of the tongue.

(Reply to Zhu Jingran.)

—Mm, even though it’s not better yet, I don’t need a doctor for now. Thanks for your concern.

(Reply to Jun Lijiang, who was a mutual friend.)

The emphasis was on the words “not better yet.”