Chapter 39: Reward

As dusk faded away, night unfurled its dark velvet cloak, and scattered stars hung like tiny gems in the branches above.

Inside the room, the lights were off, illuminated only by the glow of their smartphones.

The rumors swirling online could easily be ignored; they would dissipate on their own after a while. So why was he so concerned that he even registered a new account?

Wen Shuyu’s heart skipped a beat, much like a fish snagged on a hook.

She flipped her phone over, regaining her composure. “Jiang Huaiyu, you really know how to attract attention!”

Jiang Huaiyu leaned down, his face inches from hers, his tone teasing. “So… do I attract fish too?”

“Not at all.” Wen Shuyu placed a finger on his forehead and gently pushed him away. “Next time, don’t hide things from me.”

“Got it. There won’t be a next time.” Jiang Huaiyu raised four long fingers from his right hand, solemnly promising.

He underestimated the power of the internet; his little white lie was dismantled in less than two minutes.

Wen Shuyu smiled brightly, praising him, “Jiang, you’re a true gentleman.”

“Is there a reward for that?” Jiang Huaiyu inquired, his eyes sparkling.

“Not at all.” Wen Shuyu tilted her head and walked toward the door. They had two guests still hanging around.

As she walked, a thought crossed her mind: she doubted Jiang Huaiyu would actually be that honest.

Counting down silently, 3, 2, 1…

Sure enough, her wrist was seized by Jiang Huaiyu, pulling her into his embrace as he captured her lips with his own.

His kiss was soft and sweet, reminiscent of summer watermelon soda.

Jiang Huaiyu raised a hand to the back of Wen Shuyu’s head, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, enveloped in the faint scent of pine.

Suddenly, he paused, pressing her against the door. His tongue slipped in, entwining with hers, igniting a fire between them.

Five minutes passed, or maybe ten, before Jiang Huaiyu finally released her, his voice low and husky. “If we keep this up, we’ll never get out.”

There were still people in the living room; it would be rude to ignore them.

Wen Shuyu nestled in his arms, pouting. “You clearly wanted a reward yourself; why ask me about it?”

“I wanted you to be the one to take the initiative.”

“Then save it for next time.” Wen Shuyu’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she teased him.

Jiang Huaiyu playfully flicked her forehead. “Fine, next time I’ll double the reward.”

Double? That meant she’d be left completely satisfied; how could she look forward to that?

Suddenly, a wail echoed from outside. “Wen Xiaoyu, hurry out! I’m starving!”

Wen Shuyu snapped back to reality, quickly responding, “Coming, Qingzi!”

The dining table was already set with food, but somehow, they felt like guests.

As they stepped out, Song Jinnan looked at the two of them and said, “Finally, Jiang Huaiyu, you’ve decided to join us. I almost thought you were living here.”

Jiang Huaiyu playfully nudged him. “You might as well treat it like your own home.”

The two girls chatted in whispers, ignoring the antics of the immature boys.

Fu Qingzi was busy peeling shrimp. “Did you get the invitation from Song Baichuan? He’s getting married next month.”

She had just gotten her long nails done, making peeling shrimp particularly challenging. But since the diamonds on her nails were so pretty, she decided not to eat.

Wen Shuyu replied, “I did! Are you going, or just sending a red envelope?”

Her plate was piled high with peeled shrimp and crab meat.

Fu Qingzi stared at Wen Shuyu’s shrimp, momentarily distracted. She glanced down at her own plate and couldn’t help but compare the two men’s behavior; it was clear who treated their dates better. Though it wasn’t fair to compare, she couldn’t resist.

She didn’t like Jiang Huaiyu anymore, and she had moved on. Yet, she couldn’t shake the worry over her own taste in men—starting off on the wrong foot could only lead to bad outcomes.

A bitter feeling spread from her heart to the tip of her nose.

Wen Shuyu insisted Jiang Huaiyu didn’t care for her. But if this wasn’t love, what was?

He provided for her, showered her with care; he was a rare good man.

Moments later, Fu Qingzi collected herself. “You should go. It’s not too far, just to the neighboring city, and the guy is really nice.”

Song Baichuan was their class’s sports committee member, well-liked among classmates. He often brought them food and drinks and even communicated with the physical education teacher when someone struggled with long-distance running.

Wen Shuyu noticed Fu Qingzi’s lingering sadness. Under the table, she kicked Jiang Huaiyu, signaling him with her eyes. Jiang Huaiyu caught on instantly and relayed the message to Song Jinnan.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Fu Qingzi remained blissfully unaware.

Suddenly, a plate of neatly peeled food appeared before her. “Little princess, please enjoy,” someone offered.

Fu Qingzi picked up her chopsticks, a smirk on her lips. “At least you have some sense.”

Wen Shuyu propped her chin on her hand and asked, “Will Jiang be free to go?”

“Of course, when the wife speaks, he listens.” She couldn’t help but wonder if Lu Yunheng would be invited too.

Fu Qingzi wiped her hands with a wet napkin. “How nauseating. We’re heading home; you two can clean up.”

Wen Shuyu called out, “Take your time, and let me know when you’re home safe.”

Her mood was unusually subdued, worry gnawing at her heart.

The crescent moon hung high in the sky, a slender jewel casting its soft glow over the world below.

Fu Qingzi scrolled through her messages, surprised by how many there were.

In a daze, she realized they had arrived at her place, and she saw Song Jinnan trying to turn into the neighborhood.

With the corporate turmoil behind them, they both understood what tonight might entail.

“Song Jinnan, I need to talk to you.” Fu Qingzi looked out the window, inhaling deeply to hold back tears.

The crescent moon stood against the dark, a small beacon fighting against the shadows.

With a few tissues ready in her hand, she turned to face Song Jinnan, a wry smile on her lips. “Song Jinnan, if you don’t like me, let’s just end it here. No need to discuss responsibilities, especially since I kissed you first that night.”

Cars whizzed by, their headlights illuminating the moment.

A heavy silence hung in the car.

Song Jinnan flustered, “I don’t mean that.”

He had always thought they were good together, without any strings attached. Previously, he’d found relationships cumbersome; now, he wasn’t so sure.

Fu Qingzi tilted her head, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “Alright, I’m heading home. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

But her smile was filled with bitterness.

She didn’t linger, unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her bag before opening the door to step out.

Not a single tear fell from her eyes.

Without looking back, Fu Qingzi walked into the neighborhood, turning a corner and disappearing from Song Jinnan’s view.

Once she was out of sight, hidden behind a wall, her tears broke free. The tissues in her palm were soaked as she sat down, sobbing quietly.

“Wen Xiaoyu, I’m heartbroken again.” Her voice trembled between sobs.

Receiving the call, Wen Shuyu’s suspicions were confirmed. “Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Wait for me, okay?” she said soothingly.

Wen Shuyu calmed Fu Qingzi down before informing Jiang Huaiyu.

“I’m going to keep her company. Jiang, you can enjoy your solitude,” she added.

He truly couldn’t understand the complexities of female friendships—once filled with tension and arguments, now they were as close as sisters.

“Alright,” Song Jinnan agreed, clearly on the same page.

That night, Jiang Huaiyu couldn’t shake his concern and personally took her over to Fu Qingzi’s, stopping by to check on Song Jinnan as well.

Last time, Fu Qingzi had insisted on taking Wen Shuyu’s fingerprints, ensuring she could enter without trouble.

Wen Shuyu opened the door to find Fu Qingzi sitting on the carpet, the coffee table overflowing with various bottles of alcohol. Approaching her, Wen Shuyu noted the red and puffy eyes that resembled walnuts.

“Song Jinnan bullied my little princess; I’ll go beat him up!” she exclaimed.

“It was me who broke up with him,” Fu Qingzi corrected, grabbing her hand. “How did you get over it back then?”

A cryptic question that held layers of meaning; both understood who they were discussing.

Though it hadn’t been long, it felt like a lifetime ago for Wen Shuyu.

“I…,” she said, taking a sip of alcohol, “I cried, bought a train ticket, went to the beach, and came back feeling better.”

Her tone was light, as if recounting someone else’s story.

Fu Qingzi blinked in disbelief. “It was that simple?”

But it wasn’t, not really. How could one easily forget someone they had loved for nearly a decade?

It took her six months to heal, constantly revisiting memories, burying herself in work to avoid worrying her parents, pretending to be fine.

Even though she hadn’t been chosen, emotions couldn’t simply be turned off like a switch.

Call it a debt or foolishness; it felt like fate playing its hand.

Once it was over, she realized it was all a part of life.

Thankfully, fate had a soft spot for her.

Wen Shuyu pulled out some tissues, wiping away Fu Qingzi’s tears. “It can’t be that simple. But after tonight’s tears, tomorrow, our little Qingzi will be the most beautiful and adorable princess in Lin Yu’s villa.”

She realized she wasn’t the only one feeling this pain.

“I’m older than you by a month; you sound just like my mom,” Fu Qingzi said, finally pausing her tears under Wen Shuyu’s comforting words.

“Haha,” Wen Shuyu chuckled, puzzled. “How did you manage to recover from Jiang Huaiyu? Yingying told me you were devastated.”

Fu Qingzi waved her hand dismissively. “The rumors were terrifying. I didn’t go to your wedding because I didn’t want to be the laughingstock. My feelings for Jiang Huaiyu? They weren’t that deep. He didn’t even want to talk to me; I just thought he looked okay.”

It made sense; her relationship with Jiang Huaiyu was entirely different from hers with Lu Yunheng.

“And now?” Wen Shuyu asked, leaning in closer.

“It’s very different this time. You understand, right?” Perhaps it was the physical closeness, or maybe her heart truly stirred.

The two girls drank bottle after bottle of alcohol, treating it like water. Thankfully, the low alcohol content kept them from getting drunk.

Fu Qingzi leaned against Wen Shuyu, feeling a bit woozy. “Wen Xiaoyu, you’re actually quite lucky.”

“Why do you say that?” Wen Shuyu felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, her tongue slightly slurred.

“Don’t you see? Jiang Huaiyu has always been by your side. I won’t even mention high school; in college and graduate school, he always applied to the same schools as you.”

Wen Shuyu retorted, “That’s because my school is good.”

Her voice trailed off; it was the truth.

“I don’t know the details about weddings, but I can assure you he didn’t pursue you.”

Those within the situation often miss the obvious, while outsiders see it clearly.

Wen Shuyu dared not think too deeply about it and quickly changed the subject. “Okay, you’ve had enough to drink.”

“I’m not drunk! I can still drink more!”

Drunken people always insist they’re sober.

After making sure Fu Qingzi was settled, Wen Shuyu sent a message to Jiang Huaiyu: [I’m not coming back. I can’t leave Qingzi alone.]

Not far away, in a bustling bar street, Jiang Huaiyu patted Song Jinnan on the shoulder. “I’m heading home. You figure this out on your own.”

As long as he was alive, that was all that mattered, even if he had to spend the night in an empty house due to his complicated love life.

“Drink a few more,” Song Jinnan urged.

Jiang Huaiyu wasn’t in the mood; he ordered a glass of plain water and let Song Jinnan ramble on.

“I’m being serious here. Why do you think I’m such a jerk?” he asked, frustration evident in his voice. He couldn’t wrap his head around why everyone thought he was playing both sides when he was just trying to figure things out.

“Well, it does kind of look that way,” Jiang Huaiyu replied, taking a sip of water. “But putting that aside, did you notice how often Fu Qingzi talks to you? I mean, she and the little sunshine seem to share everything with you.”

Caught off guard, he realized he had been glancing through WeChat earlier. Fu Qingzi had been just as chatty as ever, constantly sharing interesting bits and pieces of her life with him. He replied occasionally, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She would keep coming back for more.

This was all his doing, though.

Jiang Huaiyu stood up. “Let’s head home. You need to think about what you want to do next.”

With that, he grabbed his car keys and walked out. He wasn’t single, and even without his wife around, he couldn’t be one to stay out all night. That would be against the code of conduct he held dear.

After a night’s rest, Fu Qingzi appeared to be completely revitalized, having booked a flight to escape for a bit. Unlike Wen Shuyu, who had dreams and aspirations, she simply wanted to lounge around like a salted fish.

Wen Shuyu kept reminding her, “Make sure to check in with me every day!”

Fu Qingzi laughed, “Sure! I’ll flood your phone with thousands of messages. Can’t wait to annoy you!”

Wen Shuyu hugged her tightly, patting her shoulder. “I’ll cherish every annoying message!”

Time flew, and Fu Qingzi was away for several days, obediently sending messages like she promised.

Meanwhile, Chen Jin’an’s case was about to go to trial, and she didn’t have much mental energy to spare on anyone else.

Jiang Huaiyu felt neglected. Although he didn’t say anything, his face clearly expressed his dissatisfaction.

Chen Jin’an had solid evidence to overturn his conviction; the verdict seemed all but sealed. Yet Wen Shuyu couldn’t shake the anxiety gnawing at her, as she pored over every detail in her study, checking for any potential oversights.

This was the chance to save a man who had spent half his life behind bars, and the burden of that responsibility rested on her shoulders.

“I need a break,” Jiang Huaiyu said as he pushed open the door, taking off her glasses and closing her laptop.

She wore blue-light-blocking glasses when looking at the screen.

“Hey, my notes!” Wen Shuyu exclaimed.

“Saved,” he reassured her, taking her hand and placing a cap on her head. “Let’s go out for a bit and unwind.”

Staying cooped up in the house would drive her to madness, especially before the trial; she felt like she might collapse before it even started.

Jiang Huaiyu led her to the entrance of a claw machine arcade. “Are we here to catch stuffed animals?”

She loved playing claw machines and had done so often in school; this was her first time since graduating.

“Absolutely! Today, I’m going to let you play to your heart’s content. I’ve reserved the place just for you!” he declared.

There wasn’t a soul in sight. It was a weekday, so it made sense that the place was empty. Wen Shuyu chuckled, “Oh, Mr. Jiang, where did you get the secret stash of cash for this?”

Jiang Huaiyu could only remain silent.

Wen Shuyu waved her finger playfully. “Oh, Mr. Jiang, you’ve blown your allowance for this month!”

“Whatever makes my wife happy is what matters most,” he said, his voice crisp and his tone light-hearted.

“Jiang Huaiyu, I’m on fire today!” Wen Shuyu exclaimed, completely immersed in the claw machine game, her success rate soaring.

Little did she know, Jiang Huaiyu had already spoken to the owner and adjusted the claw’s grip strength for her benefit.

It was surprisingly exhausting, and after a while, they returned home, where she promptly fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning at ten o’clock, Chen Jin’an’s trial began.

Jiang Huaiyu waited outside the courtroom, trying to keep things low-key to prevent putting too much pressure on Wen Shuyu.

An hour later, the judge announced the verdict: Chen Jin’an was found not guilty.

Wen Shuyu’s legs felt weak as she patted her thighs, wiping the sweat off her back—cold sweat.

They had won the case, yet she didn’t feel as jubilant as she had hoped. Instead, a heavy gloom hung over her. “Jiang Huaiyu, I feel so small. There’s so little I can do. Wrongful convictions happen every year. Some people get lucky and have their cases overturned, while others may never get that chance.”

Jiang Huaiyu took her hand firmly. “Yuyu, you’re doing great. You’re working hard to prevent wrongful convictions. Don’t feel guilty or sad; the future will be brighter. I believe in you.”

His low, soothing voice flowed over her like a gentle stream, like a refreshing breeze sweeping away her sadness.

Those words felt familiar. Wen Shuyu stared into his deep eyes. “What you just said reminds me of someone who encouraged me in the past.”

Back in school, she had countless admirers, but she had turned them all down, refusing to even accept their letters.

Except for one, who knew where she lived and sent letters directly to her neighborhood.

At first, she thought he was a stalker, but she soon realized he only sent letters to silently encourage her without intruding on her life.

“What happened next?”

“There was no next chapter,” she sighed.

He seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.

Wen Shuyu didn’t catch the flicker in Jiang Huaiyu’s eyes or the awkwardness in his voice.

“I really want to thank him in person,” she mused.

“There may be a chance someday,” he replied.

“How do you know?”