After a while, he took a breath and said casually, “My brother said he saw you at Wanyue Hotel this afternoon.”
The smile on Guan Yingtang’s face froze. She hadn’t expected Meng Qinghuai to say that.
Her hesitation tugged sharply at his heart.
He let her down gently. “Why did you want to go to the hotel?”
Standing face-to-face, Guan Yingtang finally came back to herself. “I…”
It was the first time she liked a guy. All her understanding of love came from novels and dramas. She vaguely knew guys would get jealous when another guy appeared.
She wasn’t sure if Meng Qinghuai felt the same, since he was mature and rational. But sometimes, less is more.
“I went to see a friend,” Guan Yingtang decided to tell the truth. “He’s a friend of yours from Hong Kong. He was worried after I left, ran off to Antarctica to find me, and now he’s come to Beicheng.”
She paused. “He got sick and had a fever. I was worried about him, so I went to check on him.”
What Guan Yingtang didn’t realize was that every word she spoke honestly was pushing their relationship toward a bad direction.
Meng Qinghuai said nothing but his eyes darkened.
Was this the growing pain? Guys caring about each other, even canceling their own plans to take care of someone else?
Meng Qinghuai didn’t know if the feeling was jealousy. He only knew it was unpleasant. Rationality couldn’t suppress it; the more he tried, the heavier it grew.
After a moment, he asked, “The friend you mentioned, his name is Jiang Peiming, right?”
Guan Yingtang was stunned. “How do you know?”
She instinctively said, “Did you follow me?”
Meng Qinghuai turned away and loosened his tie. “That’s not my hobby.”
Guan Yingtang finally noticed his low energy and pressure. Though she didn’t know how he learned about Jiang Peiming coming to Beicheng, she explained, “I just went to give him some medicine.”
“He’s an adult.” Meng Qinghuai wanted to say that an adult guy should be able to take care of himself.
Guan Yingtang opened her mouth to argue but swallowed her words, quietly sitting on the sofa. “I was just worried about a friend.”
For some reason, Meng Qinghuai absolutely couldn’t accept Guan Yingtang’s gaze resting even slightly on that other guy, even if it was just a little, even if it was innocent, with no romantic meaning.
“You should know the Young Master of the Jiang family’s notorious reputation better than I do.”
Guan Yingtang frowned, not understanding why Meng Qinghuai suddenly brought up Jiang Peiming’s reputation. “So what if I know? I’m not dating him, not marrying him. It’s up to Jiang Peiming what he does.”
“Then why are you so close to him?”
“……”
Guan Yingtang was momentarily dumbfounded, instinctively frowning. That sentence sounded oddly familiar.
After a moment, she remembered.
Long ago, Guan Zhiheng had said something similar when she spent too much time with He Zi. He said He Zi had a bad reputation and being close to her would affect his image.
Guan Yingtang stared at Meng Qinghuai in surprise, suddenly understanding why he brought up Jiang Peiming’s reputation.
Because Jiang Peiming wasn’t good enough. Because the name was tied to negative, frivolous keywords.
She couldn’t believe it, and her heart twitched lightly with pain.
After a while, she whispered, “Are you afraid that if I get too close to Peiming, reporters will catch something and affect the Meng family’s image?”
Meng Qinghuai didn’t know what strange assumptions Guan Yingtang was making. This was purely a matter between the two of them.
Besides, she had never called him Qinghuai before— Peiming, on the other hand, was easy to say.
“So, Tang Tang, you never worry about how I’d feel, right?”
“……”
After a long moment of eye contact, Guan Yingtang softly replied, “Oh.”
The intense love had blinded her to some illusions. It turned out, in Meng Qinghuai’s eyes, she needed to maintain an image too.
She needed to be like a flower in a greenhouse, fixed in place, blooming differently every day according to society’s tastes.
The carefully prepared gift suddenly seemed unnecessary to give.
“Sorry, it’s my fault for not being considerate enough.” Guan Yingtang stood calmly.
She wanted to leave but stopped halfway, taking a deep breath. Some words caught in her throat, but she couldn’t hold back.
“Actually, have you ever thought that the Guan Yingtang living with you every day is not the one you think I am?”
Guan Yingtang smiled faintly, suddenly turning to face Meng Qinghuai with a resolute disdain in her eyes.
“You know what? I’m putting on an act when I’m with you.”
“I hate wearing qipaos, hate being a lady. Deep down, I’ve never had a trace of grace.”
“Not only that, I actually like watching guys dance without clothes.”
“After we get married, I might show up at all kinds of occasions you think are unrefined and unclassy, doing things that don’t fit my status.”
“So, Meng Qinghuai—”
Guan Yingtang paused, speaking self-deprecatingly, “You better think carefully about whether the guy you want is really me.”
Having said all these hidden truths in one breath, she felt extremely relieved.
No more probing with photos, no more waiting for answers. She laid everything out clearly and plainly.
What she didn’t know was that Meng Qinghuai didn’t want to hear these things he already knew.
He was still hung up on the weight she gave to another man in her heart. After a few seconds of silence, he asked, “Done talking?”
Guan Yingtang shut up and turned to leave.
Meng Qinghuai sighed. “It’s so late— where are you going?”
At this emotional juncture, Guan Yingtang deliberately enunciated each word, “I’m going to give my good friend some fever medicine.”
Meng Qinghuai’s chest tightened, and the words he wanted to say were forcibly swallowed.
The two parted on bad terms.
But Guan Yingtang didn’t go to the hotel.
She left Jinghua Mansion, growing angrier and sadder as she thought. She had expected Meng Qinghuai to be different from other guys, to understand and accept her.
Instead, he still cared about image, interfered with her friendships, and filtered her social circle by so-called rules.
The wind in the taxi helped Guan Yingtang regain some rationality. What she originally planned to be an honest conversation with a book and a photo had turned into this outburst.
She even said she liked watching guys dance without clothes.
She didn’t even really like that. At most, she’d glance briefly but thought Meng Qinghuai’s abs were better.
It felt great to say it, like a defiant declaration, but after the words were out— what did he think now? If he couldn’t accept that side of her, how would things end when she returned?
The taxi circled the second ring road for a long time.
When the driver asked where she wanted to go, Guan Yingtang stared blankly and realized that besides Jinghua Mansion, she truly didn’t know where else to go in this huge city.
After a long pause, she lowered her gaze and said—
“Take me to the airport.”
–
At 8:30 p.m., nearly an hour after Guan Yingtang left, Meng Qinghuai tossed his brush aside in frustration in his study.
The collar of his shirt was wrinkled and misshapen after being pulled repeatedly. He had lost count of how many times he checked his watch and sighed. Worry had ultimately overcome his unbearable jealousy.
Before today, Meng Qinghuai had felt similar complicated emotions.
But that time, it was only a missed call with no direct image, so he could barely suppress the strange possessiveness.
Seeing them standing together in person today, laughing and talking, stirred the painful pangs of love more strongly.
He couldn’t just let her roam outside freely.
Meng Qinghuai picked up his phone and was about to call Guan Yingtang when the doorbell rang.
He subconsciously assumed it was her returning, perhaps angry enough to do something like this. He immediately went downstairs.
But when he opened the door, it was Meng Songnian and Zhuang Jiayi.
Meng Qinghuai was surprised. “Dad, Mom?”
Zhuang Jiayi smiled and glanced inside. “Is Miss Yi here?”
Zhuang Jiayi had been caring for Meng Songnian’s health for a few days, and he finally agreed to meet the mysterious Miss Yi who had enchanted Meng Qinghuai so much that he barely came home.
Meng Qinghuai didn’t know what to say for a moment and replied, “She’s not here.”
His phone vibrated. It was a photo from Guan Yingtang— a boarding shot taken at night— with a message:
“I’m heading back to Hong Kong first.”
?
Meng Qinghuai frowned. She was supposed to leave the day after tomorrow. Why was she leaving early?
He immediately called, but the phone was off.
He called again— still off.
Since entering the room, Meng Songnian felt the atmosphere was off. Now observing his son, perhaps sensing something in Meng Qinghuai’s expression, he suddenly smiled smugly,
“What’s wrong? Did your Miss Yi dump you?”
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