“I know you hate being pushed into blind dates and marriage like some farm animal to market,” Little Aunt coaxed. “But you’re so introverted. Outside of work, you don’t really go out of your way to make new friends, do you?”
“You can’t just keep bottling everything up inside forever. You said you wanted to wait for fate to come along, but fate isn’t going to chase you all the way to your doorstep. You’ve got to put yourself out there and meet people if you want to find it, right?”
“If you actually meet someone suitable, it’d be nice to have a companion to vent to.”
“Just treat it like socializing—go out for a spin. Do your Little Aunt this one favor. I’ve known the matchmaker for years, and it’d be really awkward to bail now.”
Jiang Zao listened to all this and knew she wasn’t getting out of it this time.
Ever since she’d told Little Aunt that she wasn’t anti-marriage—just didn’t have much faith in love or matrimony—Little Aunt had been lining up setups for her.
If only she’d claimed to be asexual or gay back then.
…Nah, forget it. That would only worry Little Aunt to death.
The blind date topic was quickly shelved. Jiang Zao stared out at the rain-slicked city, her gaze unfocused, and asked, “Auntie, have you… seen my mom lately?”
There was a clear pause on the other end of the line, laced with surprise. “Why are you suddenly asking about your mom? Did something happen?”
“No, I just don’t know if she’s still in Qinnan.” Jiang Zao didn’t mention the incident at the company.
Pan Hui didn’t press her and answered straightforwardly. “No, she didn’t even reach out to me on your grandma’s death anniversary. Want me to check around for you?”
“No need. Don’t ask.” Jiang Zao shut it down fast, an involuntary edge of resistance creeping into her voice.
Hearing her tone, Pan Hui let out several heavy sighs and tried to persuade her. “I meant to ask you last time—now that you’ve graduated, why not come back home to look for work? It’s so tough for you all alone in Nancheng, and your Little Aunt can’t do much to help.”
“There are plenty of opportunities here in Qinnan. Why not just come back?”
“Back then, when you didn’t get into grad school, you’d rather delay graduation, stay on campus, and prep for round two than return to Qinnan. You’ve been stuck in Nancheng all these years just to avoid your mom?”
“She’s your mother. If one day she can’t take care of herself anymore and ends up bedridden, you’ll still have to look after her.”
“Blood is blood—you can snap the bone, but the tendons hold. You can’t run from it. Better to sit down and talk it out properly. No mother-daughter relationship can’t be mended.”
The rickety old bus groaned and creaked as it rattled along, sounding like it might disintegrate at the next stop.
The clamor of grinding metal seeped through her earbuds, pounding her eardrums until her head throbbed. Her heart sank deeper with every jolt, irritation simmering in the downpour with nowhere to unleash it.
Her back prickled with unease. Her fingers started to itch again. That rebellious streak carved into her nerves slyly fanned a urge to destroy.
She wanted to smash something. Tear something apart.
Jiang Zao’s grip on her phone turned her knuckles white. Her lowered lashes quivered nonstop, her shallow breaths swallowed by the deafening screech of the bus doors sliding open.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
“Qiqi? Qiqi…”
Jiang Zao couldn’t bring herself to vent to Little Aunt, nor did she want to air her rebellious, unfilial thoughts. She could only dodge the topic once more, curving her lips into a smile as she flipped the question back.
“Where’s the blind date set for Sunday? Forward me the address and phone number.”
~~~
On Sunday afternoon at one thirty, Jiang Zao showed up right on time, her light makeup a half-hearted nod to the occasion as she went through the motions.
Her date had picked something atmospheric: afternoon tea at the Riverside High-rise Restaurant.
Jiang Zao had nailed her grad school exams on the second try and just graduated with her master’s this year. At twenty-six, she was a step behind her peers in stepping out into the real world.
Her classmates’ Moments feeds were full of stable jobs, blind dates, and weddings in assembly-line fashion—even the wedding photos showed couples who clearly weren’t smitten, all wearing the same lukewarm smiles.
After seeing it enough, Jiang Zao had come to view most modern marriages as transactions, swaps of resources.
As people grew up, talk of love faded from the conversation.
Little Aunt hadn’t sent a photo of the guy, saying he hadn’t provided one and she hadn’t wanted to push.
From Jiang Zao’s blind date experience, guys who held back on photos were usually nothing to write home about. Anyone even averagely attractive would bombard her with a barrage of selfies they thought made them look dashing.
The ones who played coy about their looks just hammered home their stellar finances instead.
Want looks? He’s got personality. Want looks? He’s got the house and car. Want looks? He’s got the degrees.
“Good afternoon, miss. Do you have a reservation?” The server greeted her with a smile.
Jiang Zao gave the guy’s phone number. The server nodded and led her toward the window-side VIP Scenic Seat.
As she walked, she mentally rehearsed how to turn down this potentially eyesore-level rich kid with maximum politeness.
There were only three VIP Scenic Seats. Two booths were occupied by couples, leaving the one dead center for a lone man.
He slouched on the plush sofa without a care for posture, legs splayed wide. Even in that lazy sprawl, his well-proportioned build stood out.
Taking in his frame, Jiang Zao thought: Hmm, ugly guy with a decent body.
He wore a plain black T-shirt and black cargo pants—basic stuff all around. What wasn’t basic were the custom Nike sneakers on his feet or the mechanical watch gleaming under the lights, complete with a stack of layered bracelets.
She added to her first impression: Not much to look at, but at least he’s got a decent build and knows how to put himself together.
The man lounged deep in the sofa, propping up the café’s laminated menu with one hand. It completely hid his face.
His long fingers supported the page, the bones tracing elegant lines. As he held it steady, a few veins stood out subtly on the back of his hand—objectively sexy.
Jiang Zao tugged at her lips, amending her thoughts again: …Fine, face aside, his hands are at least nice to look at.
She knew it was rude to size someone up like this in her head, but she couldn’t help herself.
She failed to hold it in. Just as she reached the table, a “pfft” of laughter escaped her.
The restaurant’s soft jazz drifted through the air, mellow and unobtrusive. Her little snort carried straight to the man flipping through his menu.
His brows twitched.
Feeling guilty for all the mental roasting she’d done, Jiang Zao decided to take the initiative. She started to greet him as she sat down. “Hi, I’m the one for today…”
He suddenly lowered the menu blocking his face. His gaze landed on her.
When Xie Lisheng’s strikingly handsome face came into view—straightforward, no frills—Jiang Zao’s lingering smile froze solid. Her eyes widened in slow-dawning shock.
Even after all these years apart, those sharp, aloof single-lidded fox eyes triggered her memories in an instant.
She remembered him.
Through high school and college, she’d nursed a crush on Senior Wei Yuan for five long years. She’d lingered around him as a timid junior sister, showing her face just to stay in his orbit, but she’d never mustered the courage to confess. It all ended when he graduated and left the country.
And Xie Lisheng? He was Senior Wei Yuan’s ride-or-die best friend—the kind who’d share a pair of pants without hesitation.
The guy had observation skills sharp enough to cut glass. He’d spotted her crush on Wei Yuan right from the start.
For those two years, Jiang Zao had always sensed a faint mocking edge in the way Xie Lisheng looked at her.
Blind-dating the best bro of her old crush? Even short-form dramas thought that trope was too clichéd to bother with.
And of all people, it had to be him. Talk about rotten luck.
Xie Lisheng had been the aloof heartthrob from high school through college, the type who looked down on outsiders.
In five years, she’d bet he hadn’t spoken to her more than could be counted on one hand.
He definitely wouldn’t remember her.
That thought eased her nerves a fraction. Swallowing her embarrassment, she kept up appearances and finished her sentence. “The one… who set this up with you.”
She eased into her seat, gripping the table edge while her mind raced for a plausible excuse to bolt.
Then he spoke.
“Were you laughing at me just now?”
A wave of guilty sweat prickled down Jiang Zao’s back. She couldn’t meet his eyes. “No. Not at all.”
To cover, she busied herself asking, “What’s your name?”
Xie Lisheng didn’t reply. Instead, he leisurely poured her a glass of water and slid it across.
“I heard you’ve never dated. And that you’re not big on blind dates?”
Jiang Zao lifted the glass to her lips. She neither confirmed nor denied it—but she didn’t lie, either. “Mm…”
Xie Lisheng fell quiet. He studied the dessert menu for a good ten seconds.
He turned the page. His voice came low and soft, laced with his own assumptions. “How many years has it been?”
“Still carrying a torch for Wei Yuan?”
Her eyes snapped wide in silent outrage.
The mischief danced in Xie Lisheng’s eyes, the outer corners crinkling tellingly. He spread the menu toward her. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Jiang Zao choked on her water. She clutched the table and coughed, her cheeks burning red.
“Cough cough cough…”
Through watering eyes, she saw that elegant hand extend a napkin. His words kept coming, relentless.
He let out a chuckle.
“Junior sister, that’s some serious devotion.”