Chapter 39

The motorcycle roared through the streets and entered the infamous Lane 18.

In the city of Fengming, this was the most dilapidated area, a haven for all manner of outcasts and misfits. Lane 18 was notorious for its chaos and crime.

The alley was littered with punks sporting yellow and green hair, idly loitering.

Hearing the sound of Chen Jing’s motorcycle, the people scattered to clear a path.

It was ironic—this alley was filled with troublemakers who caused fights and disturbances daily. Yet the only person in the area who worked a legitimate job, Chen Jing, was the one nobody dared to provoke.

Chen Jing’s skills were formidable and unpredictable. Though he rarely spoke, anyone who dared cross him could end up in a hospital bed for life.

If not for Chen Jing’s clear stance on staying out of gang life, the locals might have eagerly rallied around him as their leader.

Chen Jing didn’t care much about these dynamics. However, before his foster father Chen Jirui went to prison, he had earnestly warned him never to walk the same path he had.

Chen Jirui said not to do it, so Chen Jing didn’t.

From a distance, a young punk with yellow hair nudged his companion. “Chen Jing’s bringing someone back!”

“For real? He barely talks to anyone. Who’d he bring home?”

“I heard he has a sister. Maybe it’s her?”

“No way. Everyone knows his sister’s in college and never comes to this slum. A college girl would never step foot in a place like this.”

…

No matter what the gossip was, Chen Jing navigated the puddle-strewn alley and arrived home.

He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door. Turning around, he noticed the girl fumbling with the helmet, completely clueless about how to remove it. It was obvious she’d never worn one before.

Chen Jing leaned over, pressed the release latch under her chin, and removed the helmet for her.

He lived alone and rarely spoke due to his stutter and harsh-sounding voice. At 24 years old, he was strikingly handsome, with sharp, rugged features and a hint of cold detachment. The most noticeable thing about him was the scar on his throat.

Dai Ning quietly observed him.

Among the three male leads, Dai Ning knew Chen Jing the least.

He wasn’t much of a talker, but those who said little often acted with the greatest ruthlessness. As the saying goes, “The dog that bites doesn’t bark.”

When the Ji family was nearly crushed under the Yan family’s dominance, it was Chen Jing’s capabilities that turned the tide. His prowess was evident.

Dai Ning had heard many stories about him, but this was her first time interacting with him up close.

Glancing around the house, she internally complained to Qingtuan, “Another poor guy.”

Qingtuan responded, “Yan Jing was originally the rightful heir to the Yan family. If they knew he was still alive, Yan Mingkou would be demoted to the second son.”

Both Dai Ning and Yan Jing shared an illustrious lineage. His current situation was merely a dragon trapped in shallow waters.

Qingtuan had expected Ji Tian to inform the Yan family that their eldest son was alive. Instead, she secretly withheld the information and arranged for an exchange student slot to bring herself to Fengming City.

Dai Ning understood Ji Tian’s motivations. Yan Jing’s current status made him easier to approach and manipulate. After all, Ji Tian was a wealthy heiress.

Dai Ning’s own return had yet to be revealed, and no one in Beijing knew that the mischievous young lady had snuck off to Fengming City.

Dai Ning loved flipping the script. Since Ji Tian enjoyed playing the wealthy socialite, Dai Ning decided this time she’d play the role of a girl from the slums.

The first thing Chen Jing did after arriving home was wash his hands. He gestured for Dai Ning to do the same.

Dai Ning obediently stretched her hands toward the sink.

The chocolate powder washed away, revealing her fair, delicate hands. Her nails were spotless, with a faint cherry-pink hue at the tips.

Chen Jing glanced at her.

Under normal circumstances, he’d start cooking. But today, with a stranger in the house—one so dirty—cleaning her up was the priority.

He pulled out a basin and cloth, gesturing for her to wash her face.

Dai Ning stared back blankly, as if she didn’t understand what he wanted.

Chen Jing frowned deeply, his brows knitting together.

Did I just bring home a little fool? She doesn’t even know how to wash her own face.

Only Qingtuan knew Dai Ning was playing dumb. The thick layer of chocolate powder was too much work to clean, and she was trying to trick Chen Jing into doing it for her.

Sure enough, Chen Jing assumed she couldn’t manage on her own. He set her on a stool, dampened the clean cloth, and began wiping her face himself.

Dai Ning cooperated, tilting her face upward to make it easier for him.

As the chocolate powder came off layer by layer, her smooth, fair skin was revealed.

Her eyes were clear and innocent, and she watched him intently as he worked.

The chocolate was so thick that Chen Jing had to rinse the cloth twice before he could fully see her features.

Even with traces of chocolate still clinging to her face, her beauty was unmistakable.

Chen Jing hesitated, wiping away the last smudges of black.

What emerged was a stunningly beautiful face.

Earlier that day, Chen Jing had thought the heiress he saw at Chen Lianxing’s university was gorgeous. But the girl before him shattered all his previous perceptions.

She was breathtaking. Words couldn’t capture her beauty—like a girl stepping out of an oil painting, her youthful features vibrant and enchanting.

Compared to her, that Ji girl from earlier seemed almost plain.

If Chen Jing were a bad person, he thought grimly, he could sell her and live comfortably for the rest of his life.

His expression turned colder.

If she had been dull or truly a fool, he wouldn’t have thought twice. But her lively eyes and striking appearance hinted at a deeper, more complicated background.

Returning to his room, he retrieved a notebook and pen.

Chen Jing wrote a question for her: “Who are you?”

Dai Ning shook her head. “I forgot. I only remember someone urging me to leave quickly. I kept walking until I met Gege.”

“I’m not your brother.”

Dai Ning saw his response, her expression firm. In a soft, determined voice, she said, “But I remember you. You are my Gege!”

She nodded as if affirming her own statement.

Her sincerity was almost convincing. If Chen Jing hadn’t been fully aware of his own memories, he might have believed her.

Disinclined to argue, Chen Jing found himself reluctantly taking in this confused yet beautiful girl, an addition he considered a significant nuisance.

She might be lovely, but Chen Jing had no other thoughts about her. His life was already burdened with tasks: curing his foster mother, funding Chen Lianxing’s university education, avenging his foster father, and breaking him out of prison.

Chen Jing had no intention of keeping her for long.

“Leave tomorrow!” His handwriting on the page was firm and decisive, as if it could cut through the paper.

Dai Ning knew it was pointless to try changing his mind now. She didn’t argue but instead gazed at him with her large, watery eyes.

Having been asleep for three years, her appearance had hardly changed. With a naturally youthful face and a thick skin, she was an expert at acting innocent and pitiful.

Unfortunately, this man’s world revolved around earning money, and his heart was as cold as stone.

Chen Lianxing hadn’t been back for two years, and she’d taken all her belongings when she left. Chen Jing rummaged through his own wardrobe and handed Dai Ning a set of old but intact shirt and pants, gesturing for her to clean up.

Dai Ning didn’t take them.

Chen Jing, adept at reading expressions, immediately understood her meaning—she found the clothes distasteful. A guest under someone else’s roof and still so picky—she must have come from an extremely privileged background.

For the first time, Chen Jing realized that being kind could sometimes backfire. Normally a cold and detached person, he now regretted this uncharacteristic gesture.

He wrote: “You have no choice. Change into these.”

Dai Ning tilted her head, shifting the subject. “Big brother, why don’t you speak?”

Chen Jing glanced at her and calmly wrote: “I stutter.”

She nodded, without showing disdain or sympathy, as though he’d told her something as mundane as his age.

“What’s your name?” he wrote.

“I remember someone calling me ‘Dai Dai.’ Big brother, what’s your name?”

“Chen Jing.”

She grinned. “Oh, then I’ll be Chen Dai Dai.”

Chen Jing: …

After a brief pause, he wrote: “Go take a shower. The white bottle in the bathroom is body wash. I’ll get you a clean towel in a moment. Don’t touch anything you shouldn’t. This place is very dangerous. If you value your life, don’t even think about stepping outside. After you’re done, come eat.”

She seemed to finally understand her temporary “benefactor” was poor, grumpy, and unyielding. She obediently nodded and picked up the clothes.

Chen Jing put down the notepad, tossed her a fresh towel, and headed to the kitchen to cook.

Dai Ning almost dropped the towel, but Chen Jing had already walked off indifferently.

Closing the bathroom door, she shook the clothes disdainfully. “These are worse than the tattered and dirty rags I had on.”

Qingtuan comforted her: “At least they’re clean. Go wash. I’ll screen things for you.”

Chen Jing’s bathroom was cramped. If this had been three years ago, Dai Ning would’ve found a million flaws and refused to stay a moment longer. But after living in Xinghua Village for a few months, the environment here—poor as it was—couldn’t compare to the hardship of a real mountain village.

At least there was a water heater and a flush toilet.

The chocolate powder caked on her legs had begun to feel uncomfortable. Dai Ning stripped off her clothes and enjoyed a much-needed hot shower.

When it came time to get dressed, she realized Chen Jing’s clothes were far too large. She rolled up the sleeves and pants and tied the excess fabric around her waist in a knot.

Dai Ning hopped out of the bathroom, and Chen Jing had already set the food on the table. From the looks of it, if she’d come out any later, he would’ve started eating without her.

The living room was just as sparse, with furniture that had seen better days. The only redeeming quality was how tidy it was—Chen Jing clearly valued cleanliness. Despite his grueling work schedule, he never neglected household chores.

Chen Jing handed her a pair of chopsticks and a bowl. She looked delighted, but as soon as she saw the dish of stir-fried carrots and pork, her face fell.

Qingtuan stifled a laugh, nearly bursting into fits of schadenfreude.

Dai Ning tilted her head. “Big brother, is this all we’re having?”

Chen Jing nodded. Starving, he ignored her and dug into his meal.

Dai Ning refrained from voicing her disdain. She served herself a small bowl of rice and carefully picked out a few pieces of pork. Eating was a challenge.

Sometimes, Dai Ning knew how to read the room. She wouldn’t touch this dish again if she could help it, but today was her first day at Chen Jing’s place. The protagonist of fortune had no attachment to her, and if she pushed her luck, he might throw her out before morning.

Compared to her hesitance, Chen Jing ate heartily. He needed the energy to keep up with his multiple jobs.

Chen Jing noticed her lack of appetite but didn’t comment. To him, Dai Ning was just a temporary guest. He wasn’t the type to extend blind kindness, and she wasn’t family like Chen Lianxing.

Still, while Chen Jing wasn’t particularly nice to her, he wasn’t cruel either. When she stopped eating, he cleared the dishes without a word and went to wash them.

Dai Ning followed him into the kitchen, standing in the doorway with wide, unblinking eyes as she watched him move. When he turned, she gave him a sweet, obedient smile.

Chen Jing averted his gaze, emotionless, and put away the clean dishes before washing his hands.

It was the first time someone had trusted and relied on him so openly. It was ironic. For eight years, he’d cared for the Chen family’s mother and daughter, yet they never treated him like true family. They came with demands, suspicions—but never this kind of straightforward closeness.

If Chen Lianxing had shown even a tenth of this sincerity, he would have been the best brother in the world.

But no matter how sweetly Dai Ning smiled, it wouldn’t change his decision.

Chen Jing picked up his notepad and wrote: “This place isn’t suitable for you. You can stay one night. By tomorrow afternoon, after lunch, leave and find someone trustworthy to take you in.”

Dai Ning’s eyes filled with sorrow.

Chen Jing remained unmoved. One night was his limit. Even if she bore a resemblance to his supposed “sister,” it didn’t make her one.

He wasn’t a good person. Supporting Chen Lianxing and her mother was already enough of a burden—he didn’t have the capacity to care for strangers.

Outside, the May evening sky was painted in hues of rose.

Dai Ning rubbed her eyes, looking pitiful, as though she understood she wasn’t welcome.

Internally, the spoiled young lady grumbled about how exhausting it was to act this way. She’d never been thrown out before.

This humiliation—she’d remember it. One day, she’d make Chen Jing beg her to stay!