Chapter 23: Eyes Swimming with Tears

“Cheng Yuan, he and I are a perfect match. Do you understand?” Meng Yue ground out the words through clenched teeth. Since childhood, she had dreamed of marrying Ye Mingyu. No one—absolutely no one—was going to ruin that dream.

Cheng Yuan gave a soft chuckle, calm and composed in the face of Meng Yue’s fury. “Are you really sure about that ‘perfect match‘?”

Meng Yue raised her chin slightly, brows knitting together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’d better pray the Meng family’s fortune never dries up.”

Cheng Yuan didn’t wait for a response. In their previous lives, Meng Yue hadn’t even managed to get into a vocational college, and her father—the once powerful Party Secretary—had fallen from grace. From soaring above the clouds to plummeting into the mud, Meng Yue had become a cautionary tale. Clueless and lost, her life had ended up worse than Cheng Yuan’s.

At least Cheng Yuan had learned to rely on her own two hands. But Meng Yue…

Cheng Yuan vividly remembered the last time she had seen her: beaten in the street, reduced to a pitiful mistress who had squandered all her advantages.

The memory lightened her mood.

She hummed a little tune as she walked back to the classroom. Bei Xiaolin, eyes sparkling with curiosity, leaned in eagerly. “Quick, spill it—what’s going on between you and Ye Mingyu?” She wiggled her eyebrows in a way that left no room for misinterpretation.

Cheng Yuan gave her a helpless look. “What’s with that expression?”

How had she never noticed Bei Xiaolin’s insatiable gossip radar before?

She recounted her connection with Ye Mingyu, then added, “But we probably won’t be in contact again.”

“He saved your life! Isn’t that fate? Shouldn’t you repay him with your… you know?”

“But isn’t it over the line to give a thank-you gift without delivering it personally?” Cheng Yuan countered.

Bei Xiaolin muttered something under her breath. Cheng Yuan, focused on her homework, merely replied with distracted hums. Frustrated by her indifference, Bei Xiaolin gave up.

“Sparring!”

The moment Cheng Yuan reminded her, Bei Xiaolin snapped back to her workbook. Looking at the pages full of messy corrections and clumsy answers, her eyes welled with tears. Why am I so hopeless at studying?

“Damn it!”

“Cheng Yuan, you’re going to pay for this!”

Meng Yue was livid. Cheng Yuan had the nerve to curse her? She immediately sent someone to find Li Liang.

When Li Liang saw Meng Yue, he instinctively flinched.

“Didn’t you say you’d make her life miserable? That she’d be too afraid to even study?” Meng Yue snapped. “Why have I heard she’s studying harder than me lately?”

Li Liang lowered his head like a scolded dog. “Sister Meng Yue, I really tried…”

Now, he dreaded facing Cheng Yuan. He’d rather avoid her entirely. He wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her again.

“You were so confident before!” Meng Yue sneered. “Useless. I bet your dad won’t even win that land bid.”

“No, no! I was wrong, Sister Meng Yue!” Li Liang begged.

Meng Yue shot him a cold glance. “Then make good on your promises.”

With that, she turned and walked off, leaving Li Liang standing frozen, tugging at his hair in frustration. His body still ached from their last encounter, but what if his father really lost the bid?

—

That evening, after self-study, Meng Yue waited, knowing Ye Mingyu would come looking for her.

Sure enough, he did.

“Meng Yue.”

She turned with a bright smile. “Mingyu, what’s up? Want to walk home together?”

“I need to ask you something,” Ye Mingyu said, his tone cool, lips drawn into a thin line. Under the streetlamp, he got straight to the point. “The money and letter I gave you to pass to Cheng Yuan back in tenth grade—did you really give them to her?”

Meng Yue lowered her head, her voice trembling with guilt. “I’m so sorry… I tripped that day and dropped everything into the water. I caught a cold and took time off. When you asked about it, I panicked and lied.”

She looked up at him, eyes shimmering with tears. “Remember when I took a few days off after Grandma Ye passed away?”

It was true she had taken time off, but not the way she claimed. In a fit of rage, she had thrown the envelope into the river, then slipped and fallen in herself, catching a cold. But Ye Mingyu had been so devastated by his grandmother’s death, he couldn’t recall much from that time.

“I’m sorry, Mingyu. I really am. I wanted to tell you, so many times, but… I didn’t know how.”

Ye Mingyu’s lips moved, but his voice was stiff: “Why did you tell me she didn’t want to be disturbed?”

Meng Yue looked at him with wide, confused eyes. “Didn’t she love studying? And I… I…” Her voice trailed off, her feelings clearly written on her face.

Two years had passed, but Ye Mingyu still didn’t know what to believe. The next day, he asked a few classmates. One said they weren’t sure if Meng Yue had taken time off. Another confirmed she had been sick.

Ye Mingyu lowered his head, doubt creeping in. Had I really misunderstood her?

—

By the end of October, a one-day holiday arrived.

“Yu Qing, what do you think? Want to go with me to Sea City and give it a try?” Cheng Yuan urged. Since learning about Aunt Yu’s illness, she had been encouraging him to join her on a small business venture—buying clothes wholesale in Sea City and selling them back home.

Aunt Yu now made a living selling tea eggs. It was less strenuous, but the brain tumor in her head was a ticking time bomb. If they didn’t save enough money, surgery would be impossible.

Cheng Yuan’s father, Cheng Huaien, was working from dawn to night—fried noodles by day, boiled vegetable stall by night. Every minute of his time was accounted for.

“Let’s go,” Yu Qing said, pulling out the money he’d saved over the years—fifty-six yuan. Every coin was painstakingly saved by Aunt Yu, bit by bit. He had been saving it for a long time.

Cheng Yuan’s eyes widened. “Wow! You actually saved this much?”

Yu Qing blushed. He had planned to use the money for his mother’s treatment, but she told him to keep it for himself—better yet, to use it and earn more.

“Alright! I’ll borrow three hundred yuan from my dad. With your fifty, we’ll have three hundred and fifty total. Once we sell the clothes, we’ll split the profits fifty-fifty, sound good?” Cheng Yuan swept up the money. She added six yuan of her own to the remaining six from Yu Qing—just enough for a round-trip bus ticket.

She was thankful her father’s business was doing well. When she asked for three hundred yuan, he handed it over without hesitation.

“No way,” Yu Qing said firmly. “I only put in fifty yuan. I can’t take half the profits. Just give me ten percent.”

“That won’t work,” Cheng Yuan countered. “You’re the one doing the heavy lifting. I’ll handle sales, but you’ll be the one hauling the goods.”

She glanced down at her thin she was still growing and didn’t want to stunt herself carrying heavy loads.

And besides, she wanted to help Yu Qing too.