Zong Chi flew back the next day and arranged a new driving coach.
Who was this middle-aged man who could crush her spirit so much?
Coincidentally, Yu Xiaohan and Zong Chi went together, saying, “My daughter never complains easily and isn’t afraid of hardship. I pay to send her to learn skills; even scolding should have limits.”
Yu Xiaohan said she would visit the driving school to change Xixi’s coach.
Two unyielding ‘Buddhas,’ one old and one young.
When He Dongli thought about how she’d explain this if they ran into each other at the driving school, her whining vanished immediately.
She told herself she could still endure.
In the end, He Dongli did get her license.
Back in school, she didn’t have much experience driving herself.
One summer typhoon day, she drove the car Zong Chi left her to meet him at a place he designated.
Shortly after leaving the official residence, the waterlogged road was tricky; a low-clearance car ahead almost stalled.
He Dongli called Zong Chi, a little anxious, with many cars behind her.
She didn’t dare risk it, because if water got into the exhaust pipe, the car would be ruined.
Zong Chi, on the phone, was indifferent: “Don’t worry, keep going forward. If it stalls, so be it. I’ll send someone to pick you up.”
Sure enough, the car stalled halfway through the flooded section.
Cars behind her blocked the road, but thanks to her risk, everyone wisely chose to minimize losses—turning around where possible or stopping and waiting for the water to clear.
When Zong Chi arrived, He Dongli was nearly in tears, blaming herself for not listening to him and regretting not trusting her own judgment.
Zong Chi smiled and helped her out of the driver’s seat.
His assistant handled the rest.
He carried her to a nearby car.
He Dongli asked if the car had insurance.
Zong Chi told her to worry less—he paid for her to learn from this firsthand lesson.
If she didn’t understand such simple logic, all the “Little Horse Crossing the River” fables were wasted.
He Dongli was nearly furious, regretting over and over how she could have listened to him.
Zong Chi joked and scolded, “Look at me, I came barefoot to rescue you, didn’t want you to get a speck of mud on you, and you still didn’t listen. If you don’t listen to me, then who?”
After that incident, He Dongli never touched his car again and hadn’t driven alone for a long time.
She only started driving again the year she finished her PhD, when she learned of her mother’s illness and urgently borrowed a senior’s car to rush home overnight.
Her real driving skills were honed in the past few years accompanying professors to various affiliated hospitals and rural clinics.
Zong Chi tossed her the car keys, “Drive carefully. If you scratch it, you’ll have to settle accounts with that Chen Xiangyang guy.”
He Dongli ignored him and refused to let him insist on riding her electric bike.
She shoved the bike back into place.
Zong Chi watched her actions.
When she tried to return his jacket, he was about to say something—whether she didn’t trust herself or didn’t trust him…
But she spoke first, “Alright, drive your car. First, I don’t want to settle accounts with Chen Xiangyang. Second, I don’t want you messing up my new little donkey.”
Zong Chi knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth.
She was…still scared from the kidnapping incident that year.
She had said, “Zong Chi, whatever happens to you, how could your parents bear it?”
Though he had never asked, “What about you?”
Zong Chi had a gut feeling he could use this accident, which wasn’t really her fault, to coerce her for twenty years or more.
That day in his room, she had almost cried the entire time.
Zong Chi was drawn to her tearful eyes, unable to restrain himself.
He carried her to the cloakroom.
On the central display island, he leaned on both sides of her, inching closer.
He Dongli raised her hand and placed her palm on his face, intending to say something.
She asked him, “Zong Chi, are you even listening?”
He shook his head, blaming her, “Your voice is too low; I can’t hear.”
He was too familiar with the rise and fall of her chest when she was angry.
Almost in one breath, he precisely covered her mouth.
Then he bit her gently, telling her to speak louder next time or he wouldn’t hear.
Her palm slid down from his cheek, nervously poking into his short hair, then finally falling to the side.
The instigator whispered some crude, filthy words into her ear.
After trembling all over, the softened woman gave him a slap, angrily saying, “I shouldn’t have injected you with lidocaine earlier; I should’ve just let you suffer through the pain.”
Zong Chi was still inside.
Hearing her words, he tightened his arm around her waist and gritted his teeth, struggling a bit.
Someone immediately collapsed, blushing, sweating, and biting his shoulder in despair.
Zong Chi told her, “I’m not going to die from pain. You are my lidocaine.”
Chest against chest, cheek to cheek, he hugged her again and told her to look back.
He Dongli, exhausted, finally saw in the full-length mirror not far from the sofa—reflections of two passionate lovers.
He Dongli suddenly realized and cursed him for being perverted.
Seeing him still staring into the mirror, she quickly covered his eyes and tried to get off him.
Zong Chi refused and warned her dramatically, “It’s too late to get off now because I’ve already uploaded everything to my cloud.”
He grabbed her hand, pointing to his temple.
When he flipped on top, Zong Chi told He Dongli, “The you in the mirror—I’ll remember you forever. This you, this voice, only I can see and hear. So, I will never accept breaking up. Baby, after you graduate, we’ll get married.”
He Dongli was so overwhelmed she couldn’t say a word.
Finally, only lazily playing along when he surrendered in exhaustion, she said, “Let’s talk about it after graduation.”
Zong Chi didn’t wait for her graduation day.
He had promised to attend as family and record her tassel-turning ceremony.
His recordings arguing with Old Zong about how no one could live like his mom did were still on the voice recorder.
He insisted, no matter who, life with them would never be the same.
At least in this life, he would never humble himself like this before another woman.
Without exception.
Zong Chi walked ahead, taking a few steps then looking back at those following.
He Dongli carried her bag, holding his jacket carefully draped over her arm.
At the parking lot, Zong Chi opened the passenger door, gesturing for her to get in, watching closely.
He Dongli stepped closer and tried to return his jacket, but Zong Chi didn’t take it, saying he’d hold it for a bit.
After she got in, Zong Chi closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.
Just then, He Dongli’s phone rang.
He thought to himself, This can’t be bad luck again—still not out of the hospital gates, and already called back to work?
Hearing her reply was casual, she said she’d go on Saturday and when asked what for, she said it was about food and complained about how the calcium tablets were too big, almost choking her.
Zong Chi quietly chuckled, knowing who was on the other end—
Ms. Yu Xiaohan.
Smiling, he took his phone out of her jacket.
He had put it on airplane mode to talk to her, since he had a conference call later and didn’t want Huang Secretary to worry him with urgent messages.
Just as Zong Chi held the phone, He Dongli, thinking he was going to call or answer, anxiously snatched the phone from him, holding it with one hand, responding to her mother, “Mm, I’m off work. I’m home already. You all go to bed early.”
Then she hung up and returned the phone to him.
Zong Chi was silent for a long moment, not asking what she was doing just now, but suddenly changed his mind, “Your date with Zou Yan on Sunday stays as planned. I’ll accompany you if you want. I know you hate socializing, especially with strangers. You used to complain about me taking you to those wine gatherings as my accessory. He Dongli, think of this as me repaying you. This time, I’ll be your accessory.”