Chapter 2:  A-Jiu Isn’t That Immature

Tears that Wen Jiu had fought so hard to hold back finally spilled from her eyes. She wiped at them, her voice choked as she forced out a single word:

“Thanks.”

Just one word, but it caught in her throat, nearly impossible to say.

The auntie, who had always known Wen Jiu as a bright, cheerful girl, felt her heart ache seeing her cry like this. After a moment of hesitation, she gently said:

“That new girl in the team, the one with the surname Lin… she really does seem to be quite close with Student Jian.”

She carefully chose her words, afraid of hurting the already heartbroken girl in front of her.

“You’re still young. You’ll meet all kinds of people in the future, and someone better than what you’re facing now will come along.”

At those words, Wen Jiu couldn’t help but let out a laugh through her tears.

She nodded at the auntie. “I will.”

Even someone like the cleaning auntie—who usually minded her own business—could see that Jian Yue and Lin Anlan’s closeness had long since exceeded that of ordinary classmates. How could someone as smart as Jian Yue not realize it?

He simply… chose to enjoy it.

Wen Jiu took out her phone and called the family driver. Just over ten minutes after the call ended, the car pulled up in front of her.

In the end, she got in without so much as a backward glance.

By the time she returned home, Auntie Zhao—who had been anxiously waiting by the door out of worry—rushed up to greet her the moment she saw her.

When she noticed that Wen Jiu’s clothes were completely soaked, she instinctively looked around and asked, “Where’s Young Master Jian?”

Wasn’t the young miss supposed to deliver the cake to Jian Yue? Why didn’t they come back together?

“Auntie ……Zhao”

At the question, the clarity that had finally returned to Wen Jiu’s eyes clouded once more with a fresh layer of tears.

Everyone thought the two of them should be together at a time like this. Everyone but Jian Yue himself, who never even showed up.

Her voice trembled uncontrollably, but she forced herself to stay composed. “Clear out everything in the house related to Jian Yue. Once the rain stops, have someone take care of it.”

“Throw it all away?” Auntie Zhao instantly realized something had happened between the young couple.

But as someone who had watched Wen Jiu grow up, even without knowing the full story, Auntie Zhao instinctively stood on her side.

“No.” Wen Jiu shook her head at the word ‘throw’. “Sell whatever can be sold. Donate the money under the name of the company’s charity foundation.”

“As for the things that can’t be sold… then throw them away.”

“Alright, we’ll do exactly as our A-Jiu says.” Auntie Zhao gently wiped away Wen Jiu’s tears, her heart aching.

As the only daughter of the Wen family, Wen Jiu had been doted on by every member of her clan from a young age.

Aside from one accident when she was little, the only real hardship she’d ever endured was at eighteen—when she rushed into a burning building to carry an unconscious Jian Yue out. She suffered serious burns on her arm and spent more than half a month recovering in the hospital.

And yet, even with such severe injuries, Wen Jiu hadn’t shed a single tear.

But now…

Watching her cry uncontrollably, Auntie Zhao’s resentment toward Jian Yue surged to its peak.

Because of that fire years ago, after Wen Jiu returned to the country, she had lived under the name and status of the Wen family heiress in Jing City.

The Wen family of Jing City could only be considered a third-tier household—barely worth mentioning compared to the Jian family.

However, Wen Jiu’s other identity meant she wasn’t someone just anyone could afford to cross.

Still, some matters weren’t hers to interfere in—not without Wen Jiu’s consent.

After letting her emotions run their course, Wen Jiu sat down at the table and quietly finished the dinner she had originally prepared to celebrate Jian Yue’s birthday.

Only then did she return to her room to rest.

But the moment she stepped inside and saw the photos of her and Jian Yue still displayed on the shelf, a familiar ache rose once again at the tip of her nose.

This photo was taken the summer before university started, when the two of them went hiking together.

It was also on that very day that Jian Yue had confessed his feelings to her.

Looking at the photo—faces pressed cheek to cheek, their smiles radiant—Wen Jiu raised a hand and gently touched the image where their faces met, a faint smile unconsciously tugging at the corners of her lips.

But only for a second.

The next moment, without hesitation, she flipped the photo facedown and turned to walk into the bathroom.

Some memories from the past were indeed beautiful, almost enough to make one linger. But Wen Jiu was never the kind of person who let herself drown in the past.

—

Elsewhere—

Soaked from head to toe, Jian Yue finally caught sight of the slim figure standing by the lake. Only then did he let out a nearly imperceptible breath of relief.

“Lin Anlan!” he barked sharply at the girl in front of him. “It’s pouring out—how could you just run off on your own like that?”

At the sound of his voice, the frail figure trembled involuntarily.

Lin Anlan slowly turned around, her tear-filled eyes lighting up the moment they landed on Jian Yue.

“I didn’t run off,” she shook her head, staring at him without blinking as if afraid he’d disappear if she looked away. Crying and smiling at the same time, she said softly:

“I was making a bet… a bet that you’d come looking for me.”

Jian Yue’s heart softened, and the anger he’d felt began to fade. He stepped forward, stopping in front of Lin Anlan.

“Come on. I’ll take you back.”

“I don’t want you to.” Lin Anlan took a step back. “Because the moment you drop me off, you’ll go back to celebrate your birthday with Senior Wen, right?”

“Senior,” she whispered, voice trembling, “I want to celebrate your birthday too. I really, really like you. I’ve told you so many times already—why won’t you give me a chance?”

Seeing how close she was to the edge of the lake behind her, Jian Yue let out a long, helpless sigh.

“Be good. Come here.”

Sensing the softening in his tone, Lin Anlan pressed further, “Then… are you still going to look for Senior Wen?”

“I’ll stay with you first,” Jian Yue replied. Given the state Lin Anlan was in, there was no way he could leave her alone in good conscience.

Catching the answer she wanted, a flash of satisfaction flickered in Lin Anlan’s eyes. She fixed her gaze on him. “Aren’t you going to pick up Senior Wen?”

“There’s no rush.”

Hearing that, Lin Anlan pressed again, “Aren’t you afraid she’ll be angry?”

But Jian Yue simply shook his head with certainty. “A-Jiu isn’t the kind of person who’d be that unreasonable.”

Wen Jiu, at worst, could still shelter from the rain in the cake shop—it was far safer than where Lin Anlan was now.

So, he didn’t worry too much.

“Then what about me?” Lin Anlan pouted, displeasure on her face, though her steps still drew her closer to him one after another.

Tilting her head up to look at the face she had dreamed of day and night, she thought: Now that you’ve come… how could I possibly let you leave?

“Senior…” Lin Anlan swayed slightly, then leaned into Jian Yue’s chest as if unsteady, murmuring, “I think… I might be feeling a little faint…”

As Lin Anlan’s voice grew weaker, her body seemed to lose all strength, collapsing limply into Jian Yue’s arms.

Without hesitation, Jian Yue tossed aside his umbrella and pulled her tightly into his embrace. The next moment, he bent down and carried her up.

He gently placed Lin Anlan into the front passenger seat, then carefully brushed the wet strands of hair from her face. From the backseat, he retrieved a blanket and tucked it over her.

Only then did he return to the driver’s seat and start the car.

As the vehicle pulled away into the night, only the sound of torrential rain remained in Jinghu Park.

—

That night, Wen Jiu slept restlessly.

Though she usually loved falling asleep to the sound of rain, she awoke drenched in cold sweat.

Out of habit, she picked up her phone to message Jian Yue. Her fingers tapped open their pinned chat and typed:

[Jian Yue, I had a nightmare.]

But the moment she finished, her fingers froze in place—and she suddenly came to her senses.