My Queen, My Rules - 91
Jiang Chun was, at heart, a very practical girl. She’d had her eye on Tang Zhizhou, but he was so ridiculously out of her league that she couldn’t see a future for them. So during that meal, she’d decided to cut her losses, adopting a breezy, no-big-deal attitude and laying her cards on the table.
But Tang Zhizhou, whether he was under some spell or what, didn’t just take the easy way out she offered. Instead, he said he thought they were a good match and suggested they give it a try.
Jiang Chun was stunned for two seconds. Operating on the principle that even if he was under a spell, she might as well cash in and later boast about having an ex-boyfriend of his caliber, she immediately agreed.
Just like that, Jiang Chun leveled up once more, this time into Tang Zhizhou’s girlfriend.
Perhaps because of her last relationship, where she’d given her all and still failed spectacularly, Jiang Chun found herself surprisingly philosophical after becoming Tang Zhizhou’s girlfriend. She felt like every day might be their last. While he was still her official, bona fide boyfriend, she was determined to enjoy all the perks while they lasted.
For the first two weeks, she tried to act the part of the refined lady. When Tang Zhizhou invited her to art exhibitions and indie films, she played along. She even suffered through Ji Mingshu's devilish attempts to polish her into a dazzling, rediscovered gem.
Two weeks later, the "gem" in question surrendered.
Ji Mingshu's decades-honed refined poise wasn't something you could just pick up in a crash course.
After some thought, Jiang Chun couldn’t be bothered to keep up the act of the refined heiress in front of Tang Zhizhou. The persona didn’t suit her at all. She probably would never have earth-shattering taste or weigh under a hundred pounds in this lifetime.
Besides, she wasn’t short. Her current weight, just over a hundred pounds, technically put her in the “slender” range on standard charts. Why torture herself with Ji Mingshu’s devilish standards?
On top of that, Tang Zhizhou had been saying he was really busy lately. They hadn’t seen each other in a week. Convinced he'd had his fill of novelty and was preparing to ditch her, Jiang Chun decided to let her true self run wild. The next time Tang Zhizhou invited her to some highbrow play, she outright refused.
"Sorry, but I'm genuinely not interested. I'd just be comatose for those three hours if I went, wasting the ticket money. Also," she paused, thinking, "I don't really like Western food. Though the desserts at the places you pick are pretty amazing."
Having said her piece, she hugged a cushion tightly, waiting for Tang Zhizhou’s response.
A guy like Tang Zhizhou wouldn't initiate a direct breakup. She figured he'd apologize first, then make an excuse about being busy with work, suggesting they meet up another time. After a few days, he'd send a WeChat message gently saying they weren't quite right for each other. A clean, graceful breakup.
As predicted, Tang Zhizhou was silent for a few seconds before apologizing. But then the script veered off course.
After apologizing, Tang Zhizhou suddenly chuckled lightly. “Actually, I don't care for plays or Western food either. I just thought… girls might like that kind of date.”
Then, adopting the precise attitude of an academic, he asked, “So what do you like? Ice skating, skiing, trampolining, archery?”
Jiang Chun could almost hear the sound of him uncapping a pen on the other end of the line, ready to take notes.
She paused. “You can do all that?”
Tang Zhizhou: “I'm passable.”
No, based on her limited understanding of Tang Zhizhou, "passable" meant he was probably exceptional by amateur standards.
When she didn't respond, he continued, "What about haunted houses, escape rooms? My grad students sometimes take their girlfriends there. As for food, I’m easy. We can eat whatever you like.”
After another long pause, Jiang Chun finally muttered, “That all does sound fun… but this isn’t, like, a ‘break-up meal,’ is it?”
Tang Zhizhou seemed taken aback, then laughed again. “What are you thinking about?”
“It’s a perfectly reasonable assumption!”
Tang Zhizhou thought for a moment, then admitted candidly, “Although we’ve only known each other for less than a month, I like you very much. I have no intention of breaking up with you.”
Jiang Chun, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed watching a variety show with a Peppa Pig plush in her arms, felt her face instantly flush to match the pig's hue, not sure if it was from the wrong AC setting or something else.
She stammered an “Oh,” then fell silent as if the signal had dropped.
Tang Zhizhou, however, was completely composed and proceeded to discuss their plans for the next day.
She agreed vaguely, then said, “Well… it’s late. I should sleep. You should get some rest too.”
“Sleep now?” Tang Zhizhou sounded amused. “I can still hear the variety show. This episode premiered at eight the night before last. Coincidentally, I watched it at double speed last night while waiting for data with my grad students. From the dialogue, you’re only about a third of the way through. Are you sure you're going to sleep?"
“……”
She snapped her tablet case shut. "Yes, I'm sleeping. Or should I not hang up and let you listen to me breathe?”
Tang Zhizhou: “Sounds good to me.”
Jiang Chun: “……”
She’d just said it offhand! What kind of devil was he?!
Tang Zhizhou: “Go on, lie down.”
Silently, she pulled a steam eye mask from her bedside drawer, put it on, turned off the light, placed the phone by her pillow, folded her hands over her stomach, and closed her eyes obediently.
“I’m lying down. I’m sleeping.”
“Mm.”
Jiang Chun’s plan was to lie there for ten or so minutes, then "accidentally” roll over and hang up. Who would have thought that with the steam eye mask on, she’d actually, without realizing it, fall asleep?
At 5:30 a.m., Jiang Chun got up to use the bathroom.
Lying back down, she was surprised to find the call was still connected. Half-asleep and not thinking, she mumbled, "Professor Tang? Tang Zhizhou?"
“Hm? Awake?”
“……”
“Now I am. You scared me awake.”
Tang Zhizhou laughed.
Jiang Chun, one hand pressed to her startled, pounding heart, picked up the phone with the other. “It’s 5:30. You haven’t slept?”
Tang Zhizhou: “I'm just getting up. Going for a morning run.”
Jiang Chun: “Getting up at 5:30 to run… you’re terrifying.”
Tang Zhizhou: “I have very good stamina.”
“……”
She suspected he was hinting at something but had no evidence.
Tang Zhizhou, heading downstairs, added, “By the way, you talk in your sleep. It’s a sign of poor sleep quality. You should exercise more, stay up less, maybe have a glass of warm milk before bed. Keep regular hours.”
“What did I say?” Jiang Chun’s focus immediately shifted.
Tang Zhizhou thought back. “Nothing much. Just expressed your… admiration for me.”
“……”
“Yeah, right. Pull the other one.”
Jiang Chun unceremoniously hung up and buried herself under the covers.
Half a minute later, she emerged for air, starting to wonder if she really had reverted to her old habit of swooning in her dreams.
As he finished his run, Tang Zhizhou took a sip of water and glanced at his phone. He found a lengthy message from his little girlfriend, sent ten minutes prior, a whole paragraph defending herself against the charge of talking in her sleep. At the end, perhaps realizing her defense was not only unconvincing but practically an admission of guilt, she sent a “lying dead” emoji, giving up the struggle entirely.
Tang Zhizhou swallowed his water, suppressing a laugh. The thought of his little girlfriend tossing and turning in bed, stewing in regret, was utterly endearing.
—
Actually, that semi-arranged dinner with the Jiang family wasn't the first time Tang Zhizhou had seen Jiang Chun.
He first saw her at a crossover art salon before the blind date.
After returning to China, Tang Zhizhou had been immersed in the AI lab at C University, working on medical AI projects. Although the research environment in domestic universities wasn’t ideal, and he had to supervise grad students and teach a couple of obligatory theory classes, his circles remained relatively insulated.
But he was part of the Tang family. Being back in the capital meant inevitably brushing shoulders with its high society.
That salon was packed with the city’s glitterati. Half the young socialites were there. It was a scene of calculated flattery and rustling silk, of perfumed hair and gleaming jewelry. He was familiar with it, but not interested.
At that time, Jiang Chun, having been ridiculed after Yan Yu’s cheating scandal, had been moping at home for a while. This was her first event back out. By her side were the very same plastic friends who used to stir the pot and egg her on to pick fights with Ji Mingshu.
Jiang Chun lived up to the “Chun” in her name—pure... perhaps naively pure.
Back then, while she felt Ji Mingshu wasn’t as these girls described, she didn’t realize these girls were never really her friends. She didn’t know these hangers-on were just fringe figures in the socialite scene themselves, with little real family wealth. They hung out with her partly to take advantage, partly because they looked down on her yet were jealous, deliberately egging her on to make a fool of herself in public.
Fresh out of her slump, these plastic friends first offered a heap of fake sympathy. Then, spotting Ji Mingshu’s arrival, they started needling her again.
“Ugh, Ji Mingshu’s here too.”
“Of course she’d come. Wherever there’s a chance to show off, she appears.”
“Putting on such airs. Who knows how she grovels to her husband at home.”
Jiang Chun interrupted, “I don’t think Ji Mingshu is like what you say.”
“Then what is she like?”
“Sweetie, have you forgotten how she used to mock you?”
“Yeah, when has she ever looked up to you?”
Jiang Chun interrupted again, “She doesn’t look down on me. She helped me.”
“Helped you? With what?”
Before Jiang Chun could answer, the other two chimed in, one after the other:
“Oh, right. Wasn’t it her who spread the news about Yan Yu cheating?”
"Yeah, she was there. Who else could it have been?”
For once, Jiang Chun’s mind was sharp. “How did you know she was there?”
The circulating versions of the story never mentioned Ji Mingshu.
The girl who'd slipped up faltered, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear, stammering for a long moment without a proper explanation.
It was as if Jiang Chun had experienced a sudden burst of insight, her deductive skills soaring to a lifetime peak.
A look of dawning realization crossed her face. “You know that other woman, don't you? Last time I saw your photo with her, you said you didn't know her, just a friend of a friend. But you do know her, don't you?"
The girl who’d slipped glanced at the other two for help. But they were equally guilty, avoiding her gaze.
Jiang Chun pressed closer. “The stuff from Paris was spread by that woman herself, wasn’t it? And you had a hand in it, right?”
The girl, unprepared for Jiang Chun's sudden clarity and no actress, grew visibly more flustered.
Jiang Chun’s fury hit its peak. Her mouth was on a roll:
"You're the nasty one,yet you're slinging mud at Ji Mingshu! Are you just insanely jealous of her? Jealous that she’s the center of attention, that she's miles above you?"
"Thinking back, I really was an idiot. You were always there egging me on to pick fights with Ji Mingshu! And you! And you!” She pointed at the other two, crossed her arms, and let out a laugh of pure exasperation, a look of “I’ve finally seen through you all” on her face.
“It finally makes sense why Ji Mingshu is nothing like you all said. So you’ve been spending my money, using me as your pawn, and laughing at me behind my back? Did you think I was a total moron and a complete pushover?”
“Let me tell you, if I hear one more bad word about Ji Mingshu from any of you, I'll... I'll beat you up! And another thing! I want my bags, my dresses, my shoes back! All of it! Have you no shame?!"
Hearing this, Tang Zhizhou, who had been sipping red wine nearby, choked. He stifled a cough, nearly causing a scene.
He truly hadn’t expected to hear a girl, in such a setting, threaten to “beat you up” in defense of another girl.
He instinctively glanced over just as the exposed girl, furious yet mindful of the setting, hissed a warning, “Jiang Chun! Watch where you’re making a scene!”
“Watch what! I'm not afraid of making a scene!"
"Listen, all of you! If you don't return my things, just you wait! You know what my dad used to do, right?!"
Looking at the girl's fierce, yet somehow adorably determined face, Tang Zhizhou's lips curved into an unconscious smile.
Jiang Chun.
The name was fittingly cute too.
The incident ended with Ji Mingshu stepping forward to stand united with Jiang Chun.
Tang Zhizhou knew of Ji Mingshu—willful and spoiled since childhood, but he'd never heard rumors of her being wild or out of line. She probably had good judgment. Being friends with her wasn’t a bad thing.
He had a seminar to attend and couldn’t stay long. But in those brief ten minutes, Jiang Chun had left a vivid impression on him.
He was busy with work for the next few days. Coincidentally, he had a weekend free, and his family mentioned arranging a meeting.
Since returning, his family had arranged over a dozen such meetings for him. Aside from the first two he’d been tricked into attending unaware, he’d mostly skipped the rest or found ways to cut the meeting short.
This time, hearing it was for the granddaughter of a family who'd saved his grandfather's life back in Shenzhen, he initially planned to make an excuse and skip to avoid an awkward refusal. But upon accidentally learning the other party’s surname was Jiang, he changed his mind and decided to go.
—
Jiang Chun learned about this over hotpot with Tang Zhizhou.
The phone call from last night kept replaying in her mind. Burning with curiosity, she diligently prepared a small bowl of lettuce for Tang Zhizhou before asking eagerly, “Do you really like me? Why do you like me?”
After a moment’s thought, Tang Zhizhou told her about their first, unknown-to-her meeting.
After listening, Jiang Chun felt it was all a bit… baffling. Men were so strange, finding that kind of behavior cute and authentic instead of stupid and shrewish.
She silently lowered her eyes, eating and occasionally sipping cola, sweat beading on her forehead.
Seeing her lips turn bright red from the spice yet still fishing diligently in the fiery red oil broth, even dipping her food in dry chili powder afterward, Tang Zhizhou instinctively called the waiter for a room-temperature Wangzai Milk.
He opened the can and pushed it toward her, confiscating her cola. "Don't eat like that. You'll get an upset stomach."
Jiang Chun’s mouth was stuffed with a mini crab roe bun. She made a couple of muffled sounds, her pretty brows furrowing, but didn’t put up much resistance.
After swallowing the bun, she reciprocated by swishing a slice of fatty beef in the clear soup broth, dipping it in a non-spicy sauce, and pushing the plate toward Tang Zhizhou.
When he reached for it, she didn’t let go. “One more question.”
“Hm?”
"You're such a catch. You must have had lots of girlfriends before, right?"
Tang Zhizhou nodded, not denying it. “I’ve had girlfriends. But not 'lots'.”
“How many?”
“Two.”
Jiang Chun didn’t press further, but Tang Zhizhou volunteered more. “One was in my sophomore year. We were in the same college. It lasted a semester. The other was during my first year of my Master’s. We were in the same research group. About two and a half months. I was the one who got dumped both times.”
“……”
Such long dry spells? Such short relationships? And he got dumped? With his specs, that didn’t seem scientifically possible.
Tang Zhizhou continued. “I’m not actually very good at dating. At the beginning, you might find I handle things perfectly. But over time, you’ll probably find me a bit boring, not great at noticing a girl’s feelings. I have plenty of other flaws too. But I’ll try to work on them.”
“You mean you’re a bit of a clueless straight guy?” Jiang Chun said dismissively.
Tang Zhizhou felt it was an apt description, though he wasn’t keen to admit it.
Jiang Chun picked up a slice of potato and motioned for him to open his mouth.
He obediently did so. She fed him the potato, then propped her chin in her hands, smiling with satisfaction at him. The more she looked, the more pleased she was.
Clueless straight guy? Pfft, minor issue. Totally fixable.
As they were finishing the hotpot, discussing their next trip to an amusement park, Tang Zhizhou checked his schedule and said he was free on Thursday. Jiang Chun agreed happily and started demolishing the last plate of crispy fried pork.
Seeing his schedule reminded Tang Zhizhou of the previous public lecture. He asked casually, “By the way, that time you came to my lecture… you were already downstairs. Why did you say you’d need another fifteen minutes?”
Jiang Chun nearly choked. She took the Wangzai Milk he offered and drank almost half the can before catching her breath.
Tang Zhizhou realized his mistake and gave an apologetic cough. “Sorry, was that the wrong thing to ask?"
Jiang Chun wiped her lips, her expression deadpan. “I was trying to play hard to get. Didn’t want you to know I was so eager I’d left home super early.”
Then she added,"I'm starting to see why you got dumped."
Tang Zhizhou was momentarily taken aback, then laughed. “You really are adorable.”
Jiang Chun, still deadpan, stuffed a piece of crispy pork into his mouth. “Don’t call me adorable! Say I’m beautiful!”
“Mm. Beautiful.”
—
Although they'd officially gotten together quickly, their rushed start meant they often performed a polite, slightly distant formality.
After their heart-to-heart over hotpot, they clearly grew much closer and started acting more like a real couple.
Jiang Chun affectionately changed Tang Zhizhou’s contact name to “Professor Zhouzhou” and made him change hers to “Chun-bao.” She started popping over to C University to watch variety shows in his office.
Tang Zhizhou’s grad students were initially shocked that their seemingly-asexual professor had quietly acquired a girlfriend. Within a week, they’d gotten used to it, affectionately calling Jiang Chun “the professor’s wife.”
Jiang Chun, far from minding the title that aged her, often brought them fun snacks and goodies. She’d even distract Tang Zhizhou when he was about to give them a hard time.
These students, barely a few years younger than her, became willing disciples, serving as her eyes and ears on campus, diligently spreading the word that Professor Tang was taken, and faithfully reporting his every move.
Tang Zhizhou didn't mind in the least. Everything Jiang Chun did was out in the open. She'd tell him plainly beforehand what she planned to do, how, and why. Her straightforwardness was disarming.
Being with Jiang Chun, he felt much happier than ever.
—
One weekend, they went to an escape room. Jiang Chun had strong nerves; she could watch The Grudge or The Ring while eating instant noodles unfazed, then sleep soundly afterward. So she directly chose the most difficult, most terrifying option: the Midnight Morgue.
Tang Zhizhou was unaware of this.
She’d thought she could play the delicate, frightened damsel. But the moment they entered, Tang Zhizhou started critiquing things with academic precision.
“The bloodstains are too fake. Not even animal blood. I read online that this place opened three months ago. Might be recently renovated—I can still smell paint. Let’s get through quickly. Substandard building materials aren’t good for your health.”
Jiang Chun: “……”
Fine. Time to switch tactics from damsel to admirer.
But she didn’t even see how Tang Zhizhou solved the first room! Before she knew it, she was dazedly following him into the third!
She watched as Tang Zhizhou dialed a few numbers on a numeric keypad at the room’s end. Click, click, click. The door slid open to another room.
She finally got a word in. "What was that? How'd you do it so fast?"
“Rail fence cipher. A simple transposition cipher. Very straightforward.”
Cipher what now?
Jiang Chun looped her arm through Tang Zhizhou’s, her admiration genuine. “Professor Zhouzhou, you’re amazing!”
Tang Zhizhou ruffled her hair, eyes smiling, but said nothing.
By the final room, the solution was obvious: find the correct paths through a maze diagram, note the numbers along the way, deduce the pattern, and arrange the numbers to open a treasure chest containing the exit key.
But Tang Zhizhou stood before the maze diagram, unmoving for a long time.
Jiang Chun quietly traced a path. “Is it too easy? You don’t want to do it?”
Tang Zhizhou “Hm”ed, then said, “I want to spend a bit more time with you. Aren’t you going on that trip with your girlfriends tomorrow?”
Jiang Chun’s face flushed. She glanced at him, then quickly leaned up and planted a kiss on his lips.
Tang Zhizhou paused, touched his lower lip with his ring finger, then tightened his arm around her waist and kissed her back, deeply.
The staff member monitoring the cameras had been laughing at players in other rooms screaming in fear. Glancing at the Midnight Morgue feed, he found this dose of affection somewhat sudden and somewhat… intense.
The staff member playing the corpse in the morgue, on the other hand, felt especially wronged. This couple had breezed through, solving the previous puzzle without even triggering his morgue's clue. Now, sitting up from his corner slab, fanning himself, watching the couple with their backs to him, he’d planned to scare them when they turned around. Instead, not only did they not turn, they started kissing like no one else was there! The corpse felt a distinct sense of humiliation!!!
—
Jiang Chun and Tang Zhizhou’s relationship progressed smoothly. They dated frequently, with Tang Zhizhou scouting fun activities and Jiang Chun hunting down good food. During a short holiday, Tang Zhizhou even drove them to a neighboring city to hike.
During the New Year, Tang Zhizhou took her to meet his parents and grandparents. Initially, she was nervous, afraid they wouldn't approve of her. An education bureau bigwig and a Writers’ Association vice-chair sounded intimidating—she’d always hated writing essays as a kid.
But his parents weren’t what she’d imagined. In private, they were warm and easygoing, showing no disdain for her less-than-scholarly background.
His mother even asked her for advice on popular short-video apps and if she could recommend any good cooking bloggers. Overall, the Tang family atmosphere was comfortable and welcoming.
Tang Zhizhou also visited the Jiang family with her. Jiang Hongtao, needless to say, was over the moon with approval. After a few drinks, he started calling him “son-in-law.”
Having met each other’s families, they’d essentially gained both families’ blessing.
After the New Year, the Tang family took the initiative to discuss engagement plans. The parents even quietly went ahead and tentatively set a wedding date.
Their wedding was scheduled for May of the following year, allowing time for myriad details of custom gowns, rings, and venue preparation.
Near the end of that year, a notable event happened in the capital. Yan Heavy Industry, the Yan family’s primary source of wealth, declared bankruptcy.
A starved camel is still bigger than a horse. The Yan family had transferred some assets and quietly completed immigration procedures, moving the whole family to Canada.
However, Yan Yu, saddled with debts he had no intention of paying, was placed on the national list of debt defaulters. Though he fled abroad, the Yan family was effectively erased from the capital’s roster of elite families.
Jiang Chun had long since stopped caring about Yan Yu. Hearing the news, she felt no sense of vindication. She was indifferent, his downfall did not affect her.
Much later, she heard from Ji Mingshu that the final blow to Yan Heavy Industry was delivered jointly by the Tang family and her father, Jiang Hongtao.
Her father was something else. Before delivering the final blow, he’d squeezed every last drop of profit from them and given them a thorough, no-recourse beating.
She finally understood how her father had tolerated the humiliation of Yan Yu’s arrogant breakup all those years ago. A shrewd businessman's revenge is a dish best served cold.
Yan Yu left without a care.
But the little white lotus he left behind wasn’t so lucky.
Her stage name was Song Zirou, fitting her pure, delicate white lotus image. After latching onto Yan Yu, she’d put out plenty of press releases hinting about her powerful backing and her boyfriend's impressive background.
For a budding starlet, someone like Yan Yu was a solid backing.
Yan Yu was utterly bewitched. At Zhang Lin’s birthday party, when Ji Mingshu slapped the girl in defense of Jiang Chun, a video had leaked. Yan Yu, in a fit of protective rage, issued a statement confirming their legitimate relationship, cementing Song Zirou's status as his girlfriend.
But Yan Yu was Yan Yu. The Yan family was the Yan family.
The Yan family needed a powerful marriage alliance for support. No matter what tricks she used to cling to Yan Yu, the family never acknowledged her.
When the ship sank, everyone jumped. Song Zirou was the first to issue a breakup statement to distance herself from Yan Yu,milking the situation for publicity.
Even so, her first prime-time TV series face-planted spectacularly, leaving a ratings crater for the broadcaster.
Her rivals wasted no effort buying press coverage and trending topics, eager to trample the once-arrogant resource-thief into the ground.
—
The last time Jiang Chun saw Song Zirou was at a brand’s Fall/Winter launch. By then, Song had found a new patron, though his quality was incomparable to Yan Yu’s—older, married, with both parties treating it as a transactional fling.
Seated at the same table, Song Zirou sweetly congratulated Jiang Chun on her upcoming marriage, but then the conversation shifted to subtle jabs about her and Tang Zhizhou being somewhat mismatched, advising her to be careful.
Jiang Chun rolled her eyes, couldn’t be bothered with her.
But Song Zirou's friend eagerly picked up the thread, mentioning how they’d recently seen Tang Zhizhou’s ex-girlfriend in the US—a stunning, elegant polyglot now thriving at a well-known Silicon Valley tech firm.
Jiang Chun laughed, no longer bothering with politeness. “Miss Song, what work took you to the U.S. that you got to meet Silicon Valley elites? Escort services? I thought only third-rate internet celebrities and wannabes did that sort of thing. I’m surprised someone of your caliber—almost a Yan family daughter-in-law, a rising star—would stoop so low. Oh, Miss Song, you're so concerned with my fiancé's ex, did you happen to visit my ex-boyfriend in Canada?"
She delivered the phrases “Yan family daughter-in-law,” “rising star,” “stoop so low,” and “ex-boyfriend” with layered, insinuating meaning.
Song Zirou’s face instantly turned into a kaleidoscope of colors, a truly spectacular display.
Jiang Chun stood up, smiling sweetly as she flashed her large diamond ring. “I hope the next time I see Miss Song isn’t in a trending topic about getting beaten up by the wife. Bye.”
—
Although she hadn’t shown any weakness while tearing into Song Zirou, afterward, the mention of Tang Zhizhou's ex-girlfriend nagged at her afterward. She couldn’t help looking the woman up online.
From social media posts, the ex was settled in the US, happily engaged. And Song Zirou wasn't wrong; she was incredibly accomplished.
The next day, while trying on wedding dresses, Jiang Chun was visibly downcast.
Emerging from the fitting room, she couldn’t hold back. She tugged on Tang Zhizhou’s shirt hem and prattled on for a while, finally asking, “Why did you stop liking someone as accomplished as your ex and come to like me instead? I don’t seem to have many virtues.”
Tang Zhizhou took her hand and kissed it. “You have many virtues. You just don’t recognize them as such. And as for why… I like you. There’s no ‘why.’”
Jiang Chun looked up at him. After a long moment, she finally smiled. “Professor Zhouzhou, I’ll be a good wife to you.”
She lifted her wedding dress skirt and twirled before him. “Am I beautiful?”
Tang Zhizhou gazed at her, eyes filled with warmth, and said sincerely, “Beautiful.”
← Previous | Table of Contents | Next →
0
Comments
Post a Comment