Chapter 037 – A Midnight Flutter of the Heart

Shen Qingli’s part-time job at the fishery lasted until 9 p.m. After a busy evening, she was slightly tired. Once she had finished organizing things, she got ready to leave.

At this hour, the lights around the fishery flickered in the night, casting soft shadows that gave the surroundings a peaceful, tranquil atmosphere.

Just then, Pei Songjiang returned with a fishing bucket in hand, walking with a light step. But Yang Qianyu, who had gone fishing with him earlier, was nowhere to be seen.

The moment Shen Qingli saw Pei Songjiang, her eyes lit up. She walked over, her gaze falling on the bucket in his hand, and curiously asked, “Senior, did you catch anything?”

Pei Songjiang raised the corners of his mouth in a faint smile and handed the bucket toward her.

Shen Qingli leaned over for a look—only to find it completely empty.

She froze for a moment, then couldn’t help but burst into laughter. While laughing, she said, “Senior, how come you didn’t catch anything?”

As she laughed, she looked especially lovely. Her round almond-shaped eyes curved into little crescents, and her long lashes cast delicate shadows on her cheeks, fluttering slightly with every blink. The small dimples at the corners of her mouth added an extra touch of playful charm.

Under the hazy, golden glow of night, Shen Qingli’s skin looked even fairer—almost translucent. Her jet-black hair fell softly over her shoulders.

She was both sweet and pure, like the brightest star in the night sky—impossible to look away from.

Pei Songjiang stood beside her, head slightly lowered, quietly watching her radiant smile. Her joy was contagious, and a warm smile unconsciously spread across his own face.

He lowered his head slightly and said in a deep voice, “It’s my first time fishing. I wasn’t very good. I’ll do better next time.”

In truth, he knew full well he hadn’t been focused on fishing at all. The so-called “fishing” was just an excuse—he had never really cared about catching fish.

After laughing, Shen Qingli tilted her head and asked, “Senior, where’s Senior Yang? Didn’t he come back with you?”

Pei Songjiang gently shook his head. “Yang Qianyu left earlier. It’s getting late—have you had dinner?”

Shen Qingli instinctively shook her head. After working all evening, her stomach was already growling.

However, she silently told herself: she couldn’t let Pei Songjiang treat her to another meal.

So she said, “Senior, let me treat you this time!”

Pei Songjiang’s first reaction was to politely decline—he didn’t want her to spend money on him. But after thinking about it, he realized that relationships are built on mutual give and take. If he accepted her invitation this time, he’d have a reason to invite her again later.

With that thought, he agreed readily.

He stored his fishing gear at the fishery’s front office and got ready to go eat with Shen Qingli.

At that moment, Zuo Yanghun came out of a nearby building and immediately spotted Pei Songjiang storing his fishing equipment.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and walked up, lowering his voice to ask Shen Qingli, “Ali, is that your boyfriend?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but in the quiet surroundings, Shen Qingli heard it clearly.

She immediately exclaimed, “Ah!” and quickly shook her head, her voice dropping shyly, “Of course not! He’s just a senior from the neighboring university.”

Zuo Yanghun nodded thoughtfully, a faint smile on his lips. “Oh, I see—then I must’ve misunderstood.”

He had seen Shen Qingli and Pei Songjiang walking side by side, looking so comfortable together, that he assumed they were a couple.

Shen Qingli was left flustered by Zuo Yanghun’s words.

When Pei Songjiang returned from storing the gear, she instinctively widened the distance between them. Now, they were walking nearly half a meter apart.

Pei Songjiang immediately sensed the change and felt a flicker of confusion.

He instinctively stepped closer to her, trying to close the distance.

But Shen Qingli quietly shifted one step away.

Pei Songjiang: “…”

He paused and instantly realized something was off.

Shen Qingli… was avoiding him?

To confirm his suspicion, he tried again to inch closer to her—and once again, Shen Qingli quickly stepped aside.

Pei Songjiang’s brow furrowed slightly. Unable to hold back, he called her name, “Shen Qingli.”

Startled, Shen Qingli looked up. “Ah? Senior, what’s wrong?”

By now, they were walking the road from the fishery to the bus stop.

It was a stretch of several dozen meters, relatively isolated, and dimly lit due to the lack of streetlights. Occasional insect sounds came from the roadside bushes, adding to the quiet and slightly mysterious ambiance.

Suddenly, Pei Songjiang reached out and grabbed her arm firmly, pulling her to the side in one swift, powerful motion.

Before Shen Qingli could react, she lost her balance and was pulled close to him.

In that fleeting moment, she caught a faint whiff of cedar from Pei Songjiang’s body—fresh and calming, it made her momentarily dazed.

Once she regained her balance, she looked in the direction he had pulled her from and spotted a large pit up ahead.

It wasn’t very wide, but if someone wasn’t careful and stepped into it, they could easily get hurt.

Shen Qingli’s eyes widened in shock, filled with lingering fear. She looked up at Pei Songjiang with gratitude. “Senior! Thank you for saving me!”

That was really dangerous!

She instinctively touched her chest—her heart was pounding like crazy.

Pei Songjiang let go of her arm and softly reminded her, “Be more careful when you walk. Don’t get distracted.”

Shen Qingli looked at the hand he’d just withdrawn, her face flushing red. She nodded lightly, her voice barely louder than a whisper, “I understand, senior.”

Even though he had let go, she could still feel the faint coolness of his touch on her arm.

Unable to help herself, Shen Qingli snuck a glance at Pei Songjiang’s hand. His hand was large, with long, well-defined fingers—like a work of art that she couldn’t stop staring at.

Now, whenever she looked at his hands, she couldn’t stop imagining what it might feel like if their fingers were intertwined.

Shen Qingli lowered her head slightly, letting her hair fall and cover her flushed cheeks.

In her heart, she silently resolved: It’s best to keep some distance from Pei Songjiang.

The two of them went to a restaurant near B University. As soon as they found a table and placed their orders—barely enough time to settle in—they ran into someone familiar.

Yu Zhenghao happened to be dining nearby with some friends. When he casually turned his head, he saw Shen Qingli eating with Pei Songjiang.

His face revealed a look of surprise. He quickly picked up his phone and secretly snapped a photo. Then, with fingers flying across the screen, he sent the picture to their private three-person group chat:

[@Jiang Junwen, your driver’s daughter seems to be getting along well with Pei Songjiang!]

Ever since their last meal together, when Li Wenyao told them about Pei Songjiang’s background, Yu Zhenghao had been keeping a close eye on him, observing his every move.

From Yu Zhenghao’s perspective, Pei Songjiang came from an elite family, his background no worse than Jiang Junwen’s—so why was his taste in women seemingly so unselective?

At that moment, Jiang Junwen was lying alone in a dark room.

Heavy curtains blocked out the sunlight, casting the entire space in a gloomy and suffocating air.

Several empty liquor bottles lay scattered across the table—some toppled sideways, others teetering precariously on the edge.

Jiang Junwen had passed out on the sofa after drinking heavily.

But he’d had a terrible dream.

In that dream, he saw himself heartlessly driving Shen Qingli away for the sake of Luo Shuyao.

Shen Qingli was pulling her suitcase, her back full of sorrow.

Just as she stepped onto the street, a car suddenly ran a red light. It came speeding by like an out-of-control beast.

With a loud crash—bang!—she was thrown several meters into the air, landing hard on the ground.

At that moment, Jiang Junwen had been standing at the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, arms wrapped around Luo Shuyao, kissing her tenderly.

Through the glass, he accidentally caught a glimpse of the scene outside.

In that instant, his eyes widened sharply—he instantly recognized the suitcase that had been hit as Shen Qingli’s.

Like being struck by lightning, he shoved Luo Shuyao aside and charged downstairs like a madman.

He stumbled as he ran, nearly falling several times.

Everyone told him the same heartbreaking thing: Shen Qingli was dead.

But he didn’t believe it—how could it be possible?

The girl who had always stayed by his side, who cared for him meticulously and wholeheartedly—how could she just vanish like that?

A wave of overwhelming panic engulfed him like an invisible net, suffocating him.

At that moment, Jiang Junwen abruptly jolted awake from the nightmare.

He sat up straight, drenched in sweat, with large beads rolling down his face.

His head throbbed violently, as though a thousand needles were stabbing at his brain. His throat was parched and burning.

In a hoarse voice, he instinctively called out, “Ali, water.”

His voice was filled with endless exhaustion and helplessness.

He sat on the sofa with his eyes closed, recalling how for the past five years, whenever he was drunk or sick, Shen Qingli was always the first to be there—offering him a warm glass of water and whispering comforting words.

When he was first reborn, he truly thought he wanted to be with Luo Shuyao and deliberately kept his distance from Shen Qingli.

But as time passed, he realized how much he had grown used to having Shen Qingli in his life. Her every smile, every small gesture, had become etched into his very existence. He couldn’t live without her.

He leaned against the sofa, rubbing his aching forehead, and called out again, “Ali…”

Then he paused and slowly opened his eyes.

Before him was the dim and stifling room. The lights were off, making everything feel especially oppressive.

The table was littered with empty bottles, and the sofa was covered in rumpled clothes—a complete mess.

Because no one dared enter his room without permission, the house staff hadn’t cleaned, and the chaos only amplified his loneliness.

He thought of how he had spent several days coaxing Luo Shuyao, exhausting himself just to calm her down. When he finally returned home, drained and weary, hoping for a bit of peace, Gao Xuanzhen interrogated him about why he wasn’t going to school. It was all too much—he was mentally and physically worn out.

Covering his face with his hand, Jiang Junwen suddenly let out a bitter, hollow laugh in the dark. “Why is it like this…”

He didn’t understand. In their past life, Shen Qingli had also taken contraceptives, but she never complained or asked anything of him. She endured everything silently.

Back then, he never once thought he’d treated her unfairly.

But now, when compared to Luo Shuyao, he finally realized the truth:

A woman who truly loves you wouldn’t want to make things difficult for you.

And Shen Qingli… she had always been that silently devoted person who truly loved him.

Just then, his phone chimed—a message notification breaking the stillness of the room.

He reached for it.

It was a photo sent by Yu Zhenghao in the group chat.

Half-dazed, he tapped it open—and his face instantly darkened.

In the photo, Shen Qingli and Pei Songjiang were sitting together in a restaurant, happily chatting over a meal.

An inexplicable surge of rage swelled in Jiang Junwen’s chest.

Why is Shen Qingli so close to Pei Songjiang?

His hand clenched tightly around the phone, knuckles turning white from the force. A strong sense of unease and jealousy bloomed in his chest.

For the first time, he felt a terrifying realization take root:

He might really be losing Shen Qingli.