Chapter 52

Jiang Group President's Office.

The expedited paternity test report lay quietly in the center of Jiang Cheng's mahogany desk. The pages were pristine white, but the black words at the conclusion pierced his pupils like poisoned needles:

The possibility that Jiang Cheng is Jiang Ming's biological father is ruled out.

The office was deathly silent. The air seemed to solidify into cold amber, trapping Jiang Cheng within it. He had been hunched over his report for ten minutes. His fingers gripped the edge of the paper so tightly that his knuckles turned bluish-white.

The assistant stood five steps away, holding his breath, not even daring to swallow. He could see the veins throbbing in his boss's temples and the muscles on the side of his neck taut like iron.

"Wang, Li, Hua".

Three words were squeezed out from between Jiang Cheng's teeth, hoarse, cracked, and tinged with blood. He abruptly stood up, the chair legs scraping the floor with a grating noise. He didn't smash anything, didn't roar, and didn't even glance at the report again. He simply folded it, folded it in half, and folded it in half again, until it became a tiny piece, which he then stuffed into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"Prepare the car," he said, his voice flat. "Back to the villa."

---

Jiang Family Lakeside Villa.

Wang Lihua was frowning at the jewelry and passports scattered on the bed. Jiang Cheng hadn't come home all night and wouldn't answer his phone, which made her increasingly anxious. She knew about the cheating photos; although she didn't know who sent them, Jiang Cheng, a control freak, would never let it go. She had to leave, immediately.

But the cash transfer wasn't fully completed yet, and the paperwork for several overseas properties was also... It's all that little bastard Jiang Ci's fault! If he hadn't suddenly caused this mess, she would have had plenty of time!

The door opened with a soft sound, but it made Wang Lihua freeze. She hurriedly stuffed the jewelry under the covers, her face already plastered with her usual gentle yet worried smile as she turned around: "Old Jiang, you're back..."

The words came to an abrupt halt.

Jiang Cheng stood at the bedroom door, dressed in a sharp suit, his hair neatly combed, and even a slight, almost gentle smile on his lips.

But the smile didn't reach his eyes at all; his eyes were like two deep wells filled with thick ice, dark and devoid of any light.

"Pack your things?" Jiang Cheng walked in, his tone even somewhat calm. "Where are you going? Switzerland? Or Canada?"

Wang Lihua's heart was pounding, and she forced a smile, saying, "Old Jiang, what are you saying? I was just tidying up the ones I don't wear often. Where did you go last night? I was so worried about you."

Jiang Cheng didn't reply. He paced to the bedside, his gaze sweeping over the edges of the jewelry boxes that hadn't been hidden away under the covers, before settling on the open passport and flight itinerary. He reached out, picked up the first-class ticket to Zurich, and checked the date.

"My flight is tomorrow afternoon." He nodded. "Good timing. By the time you arrive, everyone will know how many cuckolds I've been cheated on. Perfect, out of sight, out of mind."

"Old Jiang!" Wang Lihua's face turned pale, and she lunged forward to grab his arm. "Listen to me, those photos are fake! Someone framed me! It was Jiang Ci! It must be him..."

“Our son, Jiang Ming,” Jiang Cheng suddenly interrupted her, his voice still steady, even tinged with curiosity, “does he look like?”

All of Wang Lihua's explanations were stuck in her throat.

“Everyone says that sons resemble their mothers.” Jiang Cheng turned around to face her directly, and a sinister crack finally appeared in the depths of his icy eyes. “But Jiang Ming, apart from his eyes being somewhat similar to yours, his nose, his forehead, and especially the way he purses his lips… who does he resemble? I was looking at him yesterday, and then it suddenly dawned on me.”

He took a step forward, and Wang Lihua, intimidated by his imposing presence, instinctively stepped back, her calf hitting the edge of the bed.

“Like Xie Rongchang.” Jiang Cheng uttered the name softly, looking at Wang Lihua’s face, which turned deathly pale, as if admiring a work of art. “That President Xie who has been dead for almost twenty years, leaving you with many memories. No wonder you had Jiang Ming learn piano, since Xie Rongchang seems to know how to play the piano, right?”

"You're talking nonsense!" Wang Lihua screamed, her voice shrill and piercing with fear. "Jiang Ming is your son! Of course he's your son! You're crazy! You've been driven mad by Jiang Ci!"

"Am I crazy?" Jiang Cheng chuckled softly, a laugh that sent chills down one's spine. "I wish I were crazy. If I were crazy, I wouldn't have to read this report."

He took out the crumpled paper ball from his suit pocket, slowly unfolded it, and held it up to Wang Lihua's eyes.

It's all written in black and white, crystal clear.

Wang Lihua's pupils dilated to their maximum, and her breathing stopped. She stared intently at the line of words, as if she didn't recognize them. A few seconds later, she shook her head violently and cried out hysterically, "Fake! It's fake! Jiang Ci forged it! Old Jiang, you have to believe me! How could I... how could I..."

"How could you?" Jiang Cheng slammed the report paper down her face, the sharp edge of the paper cutting her cheek.

He finally shattered his facade of calm, veins bulging on his forehead, his eyes blazing with fury and humiliation. "When you slept with Xie Rongchang back then, did you ever think about this day?! He's dead, and you're carrying his bastard child, unable to find anyone to take care of you, so you set your sights on me! Isn't that right?!"

The immense fear and the devastation of having her secret completely exposed shattered Wang Lihua's last shred of sanity. She blurted out, as if to unleash years of pent-up resentment and grievances:

"So what if I am?! Do you think I want to be with you?! If Xie Rongchang hadn't suddenly died back then, would I have even looked at you?! A man who built his fortune on his wife's dowry! I'm pregnant with his child, I need a home! You just happen to be stupid enough, and you even look a bit like him! Who else would I go to if not you?!"

After he finished speaking, the room fell into a deathly silence.

Wang Lihua herself was stunned. She covered her mouth, her eyes filled with fear and lingering dread.

Jiang Cheng, however, calmed down strangely. He even nodded, as if he had finally solved a mystery that had troubled him for many years. Slowly, extremely slowly, he took out a black fountain pen that looked quite old from the breast pocket of his suit and gently placed it on the bedside table.

“This pen,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice hollow, “was a birthday gift you gave me ten years ago. You said it could record audio and that I should take it with me when I was doing business. I’ve always carried it with me.”

Wang Lihua's gaze fell on the pen as if she had seen a poisonous snake.

“What I just said,” Jiang Cheng said, looking at her and emphasizing each word, “was recorded very clearly. Xie Rongchang’s children should be very interested.”

He took one last look at the woman, the woman he had once thought was gentle and understanding, but who had actually dragged him into the deepest shame, then turned and left the bedroom without looking back.

Behind her came Wang Lihua's broken, desperate cries, and the crisp sound of jewelry being frantically swept to the ground and shattered.

Jiang Cheng walked to the living room on the first floor of the villa. The huge crystal chandelier was still dazzling. Standing in the light, he felt an unprecedented chill. He took out his phone and dialed his assistant's number, his voice tired and numb:

"Have the public relations department suppress Wang Lihua's matter and prevent it from escalating. By the way, call the police; Wang Lihua is suspected of transferring my assets."

He hung up the phone, walked to the liquor cabinet, poured himself a glass of the strongest whiskey, and downed it in one gulp. The alcohol burned his throat, but did nothing to warm his body. He looked up, his gaze falling on the living room wall, where an early painting by Liang Wanqiu had once hung, later replaced by a vulgar oil painting by Wang Lihua.

His phone vibrated again; it was the company's CFO calling. He answered and heard a panicked voice on the other end: "President Jiang! Something terrible has happened! An employee has filed a formal complaint accusing Zhou Hongchang of financial fraud involving over 10 billion yuan, causing the Jiang Group's market value to evaporate by over 10 billion yuan! And... there's also a lawyer's letter from overseas regarding our core patents..."

Zhou Hongchang, one of the men embracing Wang Lihua in the photo, was also one of his most trusted right-hand men. Jiang Cheng listened, his eyes gradually unfocusing. The phone slipped from his hand and fell to the soft, expensive carpet with a dull thud.

Jiang Cheng did not go to the company.

He locked himself in his study, drawing the heavy curtains to block out all light. In the darkness, only the flickering red dot of his cigar and his heavy, disordered breathing could be heard. His phone vibrated frantically on the table, the screen's light illuminating his ashen face again and again—questions from the board of directors, collection calls from the bank, letters of severance from business partners… like countless deadly hands reaching out from the screen, trying to drag him into the abyss.

But all that kept echoing in his mind was Wang Lihua's desperate scream: "...He's dead. I'm pregnant with his bastard child and can't find anyone to take me in, so I've set my sights on you!"

To take over.

The word was like a poisoned icicle, repeatedly piercing his temples. Twenty years! The fact that he had raised someone else's son for twenty years was the most shameful evidence against him! And he himself, from an ambitious entrepreneur, became the enviable "promotion, wealth, and wife-killing" type in the industry, and was ultimately labeled the perfect sucker, nailed to the pillar of shame.

"Ha...haha..." In the darkness, a broken laugh escaped his throat, more unpleasant than crying. He remembered Liang Wanqiu's withered wrists before her death, her eyes filled with sorrow, confusion, and finally, utter desolation. What was he doing then? Oh, accompanying Wang Lihua as she tried on wedding dresses.

He personally pushed the only person who truly cared for him into despair.

This realization was even more agonizing to him than Wang Lihua's betrayal. Because betrayal can be hated, can be retaliated against. But to let down... especially to let down someone who can never be made up for, that kind of regret is a slow poison that erodes day and night until it gnaws away at your soul.

He burned his finger with the cigar, jerked it off, and ash fell in a flurry.

Just then, there was a rapid knocking on the study door, and the nanny's voice was filled with unprecedented panic: "Sir! Sir! There are so many people outside! There are reporters, and... and police!"

Jiang Cheng's pupils contracted.

What's meant to happen will eventually happen.

He stubbed out his cigar, straightened his crooked tie, took a deep breath, and opened the study door. The blinding light flooded in, making him squint.

The villa's gate was already completely surrounded. Reporters with their cameras and microphones were packed at the front, followed by several official vehicles with flashing red lights, and uniformed personnel with serious expressions. Further away, many nearby residents and curious onlookers craned their necks to get a better look.

"Mr. Jiang! What is your response to Ms. Wang Lihua being taken away by the police on suspicion of transferring marital assets?"

"President Jiang, there are reports that the Jiang Group's core patents are suspected of misappropriating the estate of the late entrepreneur Xie Rongchang. Is this true?"

"President Jiang, what's the background of your son Jiang Ming..."

Problems rained down on him like hail, each one hitting him squarely where it hurt. Flashbulbs crackled, illuminating every stiffness and embarrassment on his face.

He opened his mouth, but found his throat so dry he couldn't make a sound. His assistant struggled to push the reporters aside and helped him into the car, but the crowd was too overwhelming. His suit was torn and his hair was disheveled; he was a far cry from his usual dashing self.

He scrambled into the car as if fleeing, slamming the door shut to shut out all outside noise and sight. Leaning back in the leather seat, trembling, he yelled at the driver, "To the company! Quickly!"

---

Jiang Group headquarters building.

The once orderly lobby was now filled with an atmosphere of impending panic. Employees whispered among themselves, and when Jiang Cheng entered, they all lowered their heads and avoided eye contact.

As the elevator ascended, Jiangcheng's heart sank.

In the conference room, all the directors and senior executives were present, and the atmosphere was so tense it could drip water. The projector was on, displaying not the usual performance reports, but a scanned copy of a letter from a well-known overseas law firm and a preliminary appraisal opinion from a reputable domestic intellectual property agency.

“President Jiang,” a veteran director with white hair stood up, his tone heavy, “the legal team entrusted by Xie Rongchang’s children has officially filed a lawsuit, accusing our core composite crystal structure patent of infringing on Xie Rongchang’s unpublished research results. The early experimental records and manuscripts provided by the other party are very convincing.”

Another vice president in charge of marketing said in a trembling voice, “All our bank credit lines have been frozen, all our partners have suspended payments and are demanding that the terms be renegotiated, or the contracts will be terminated.”

"The stock price opened at the daily limit down, and there is a sell-off in the market right now."

"The tax and business administration officials are already on their way, saying they want to understand the situation."

"Zhou Hongchang didn't come to work today, and his phone is switched off..."

One piece of bad news after another struck Jiang Cheng like a hammer blow to the chest. His face was ashen, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the conference table. He could feel that the gazes that had once been filled with awe and flattery had now turned into scrutiny, suspicion, and even schadenfreude.

“President Jiang,” the veteran looked at him, his eyes filled with complex emotions, “the most urgent task is to come up with a solution. If we lose the patent lawsuit, we will not only face huge compensation payments, but also the very foundation of the entire group will be shaken. And then there’s the cash flow…”

"I know!" Jiang Cheng interrupted him abruptly, his voice hoarse. "I'll figure out the patent issue! I'll figure out the funding! Make sure the public relations department can suppress all these negative news stories!"

He practically staggered back to his office. Once the door closed, the world finally fell silent, leaving only his heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart.

What can he do?

Xie Rongchang's children clearly came prepared, with a complete chain of evidence. If the patent is found to be infringing, the Jiang family will not only have to pay back all the profits from the related business over the past twenty years, but will also completely lose its technological advantage and become a laughing stock in the industry.

The cash flow? When a wall falls, everyone pushes it down. Aren't those banks and partners all sharks that smell blood?

He slumped into his chair, staring blankly out the floor-to-ceiling window. From here, he used to overlook most of the city, feeling as if he had everything under control. Now, those skyscrapers looked like cold tombstones, mocking his defeat.

My phone rang again. It was an unknown number.

He answered the call numbly.

"Is this Mr. Jiang Cheng?" The voice on the other end was calm and composed. "I am a reporter from the Financial Daily. We have received an anonymous document regarding the collapse of your company's western factory years ago, which involves the concealment of casualties and irregularities in operations. We would like to verify the situation with you."

The West District factory? That was the first major project he took on when he started out. In order to meet the deadline and cut costs, three workers did indeed die. He used money and threats to settle accounts with the families and cover up the accident.

This happened almost twenty years ago, how could this be...?

"Furthermore," the female reporter continued, her voice carrying a barely perceptible sharpness, "regarding the estate of your late ex-wife, Ms. Liang Wanqiu, your son, Mr. Jiang Ci, has officially initiated legal proceedings. There is evidence that you disposed of Ms. Lin's premarital property without her consent over the years, including several valuable paintings. What is your explanation for this?"

"Beep beep beep—"

Jiang Cheng abruptly ended the call and threw the phone away as if he'd been burned. The phone hit the thick carpet, the screen shattered, but a chill ran down his spine and through his entire body.

It's over.

Everything is over.

Patents, funding, old cases, inheritance... all the potential problems were precisely detonated by the same hands at the same time.

Whose hands are those?

Jiang Ci? No, how could a high school student have such power and cunning? Or were those rivals who had long been dissatisfied with him taking advantage of his misfortune?

Or is it retribution?

The word suddenly popped into his mind, sending a chill down his spine.

He listlessly pulled open the drawer; it was a mess inside, and at the very bottom, a dusty velvet box. His hands trembled as he opened it. Inside was a very old, cheap silver ring. He had bought it with his first month's salary when he married Liang Wanqiu. Later, when he had money, he bought her countless more expensive and better jewels, and this ring was forgotten in a corner.

He picked up the ring; the inner band was engraved with crooked, thin characters: "Eternal Union in Late Autumn in Jiangcheng."

May we be forever united in heart and soul...

He suddenly remembered their wedding day. Wanqiu was wearing a simple white dress and this ring. She smiled and said, "Jiangcheng, from now on we are a family. No matter if we are rich or poor, we will stay together."

He held her hand tightly and vowed to give her a good life.

But what did he give her in return? Endless waiting, her talent being ignored, and loneliness at her sickbed.

"ah--!!!"

A wild, desperate howl burst from Jiang Cheng's throat. He grabbed the ring and clenched it tightly in his hand. The cold metal hurt his palm, but it couldn't compare to the excruciating pain in his heart.

He was wrong. Utterly wrong.

He spent his whole life chasing wealth and status, believing them to be symbols of power. But in the end, he lost sincerity, trust, the warmth of family, and even his basic human decency.

Outside the window, snowflakes began to fall again, growing larger and larger, soon covering the city in a vast expanse of white.

It was as if it were burying all filth, and also like a grand but cold funeral.

Jiang Cheng slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the swirling snow. His shattered phone screen flickered dimly on the carpet, the last news notification's headline glaringly obvious:

The posthumous work "Light" by the genius painter Liang Wanqiu was donated to the National Art Museum of China. His son, Jiang Ci, said: Art should belong to everyone.

In the photo, Jiang Ci and the boy named Xie Qingyan stand side by side in front of the painting, their profiles serene and their eyes bright.

That is the light.

He, however, had already fallen into an eternal darkness that he himself had dug.

——

The next morning, the classroom of Class 32 was like a pot of boiling water with a boulder thrown in, the suppressed excitement hissing in the morning light.

The moment Xie Qingyan pushed open the door, the pot of boiling water was briefly muted. Immediately afterward, an even more surging sound overflowed from every corner, precisely drilling into his ears:

"Quickly check the financial headlines! Jiang's Group's stock price plummeted to its daily limit at the open! Billions of yuan evaporated instantly!"

"It's not just the stock price! I just saw some inside information that the banks held a meeting overnight to withdraw loans from Xiangmihu Financial Street! That's the lifeblood of the Jiang family!"

"What's this? Patent lawsuits are the real killers! I heard that the core technology that made Jiangcheng rich was plagiarized from the estate of a deceased tycoon. Now his children are suing him across borders, demanding astronomical sums in damages!"

"My parents were talking about this at dinner last night, saying that Jiangcheng is probably going to go bankrupt this time..."

The focus of the discussion shifted rapidly:

"So Wang Lihua's scandals were just the fuse; Jiang Cheng himself isn't clean either!"

"It's not just unclean, it's also in the construction industry. He said that Jiangcheng had a fatal accident during a project he took on in the early days, but he managed to cover it up with money and connections. Now it seems that the truth has been unearthed..."

"No wonder everyone's kicking someone when they're down! This is a case of settling old scores and new ones all at once!"

"Have you guys seen the latest in-depth post? It says that Jiang Cheng started out by relying on his wife's family, but after he became successful, he drove his wife to the brink of despair. It's a typical story of a heartless 'phoenix man'!"

"Yes, yes, yes! Liang Wanqiu, I remember that name. A talented woman, she died so unjustly. Now look what's happened, the mistress has cheated on him like a field of grass, the paternity of his illegitimate child is a mystery, and his company is about to collapse. It's karma in this life, even a wish-fulfillment novel wouldn't dare to write it like this!"

When he mentioned the first wife and the illegitimate child, he subconsciously lowered his voice, which only added to the thrill of uncovering a secret.

"Speaking of illegitimate children... is the one overseas actually from Jiangcheng?"

"The paternity test results have leaked, and they say there's a 99.99% chance the child isn't biologically related. If that's true, Jiang Cheng has been raising someone else's son for the past twenty years, and he's spoiling him rotten. It's laughable."

"So now his wife is fake, his son is fake, his company is fake, and even his first pot of gold when he made it might have been from sucking the blood of his original wife? This persona is completely shattered!"

"Serves him right! People who get rich by relying on women and are ungrateful and unscrupulous will get their comeuppance sooner or later!"

At this moment, someone glanced at Xie Qingyan's empty seat, their voice filled with more complex speculation:

"Do you think all of this might be related to Jiang Ci? His recent dropout from school is too coincidental."

"Impossible, right? He's just a student..."

"What's wrong with students? Don't forget who overturned Tang Li's case! Jiang Ci is absolutely ruthless when he gets angry. Besides, the hatred of killing one's mother and the grudge of taking away one's property, could you tolerate that?"

"Hiss... Now that you mention it, it's terrifying to think about. If he really did plan it, then this counterattack was too brilliant, too deadly."

"Whether it's true or not, Jiang Cheng is truly abandoned by everyone this time, and is completely finished. His wife and mistress have joined forces to drain him of his wealth, his business partners have kicked him while he was down, and even his possibly only son is on the opposite side... He is truly all alone and at the end of his rope."

After the words were spoken, a brief silence followed. It wasn't out of sympathy, but rather a collective silence born of the swift and intense retribution of cause and effect.

Just then, Xie Qingyan walked to her seat.

All the discussions subsided abruptly, as if hitting an invisible dam. Dozens of eyes focused on them, filled with indescribable emotions: curiosity, inquiry, a hint of fear, and a faint sense of admiration.

Liang Ying was the first to speak, lowering her voice to ask, "Xie Qingyan, is Jiang Ci alright?" Her question represented the thoughts of most people. In such a shocking collapse of their family, what role did that once silent and forbearing classmate play? And was he safe and sound?

Zhang Tao also came over, his expression serious: "If you need help, just say so. We guys may not have much else, but we've got some strength."

Xie Qingyan raised his head to meet their gazes. Morning light fell on his serene profile; there was no panic, no smugness, only a deep, still calm. He gently shook his head, his voice gentle yet carrying a clear boundary:

"Thank you all for your concern. Jiang Ci needs some time to deal with some things." He paused, his gaze sweeping across the clear sky outside the window. "As for the rest, I believe in the law and in justice."

This answer neither admitted to anything, yet it seemed to say everything.

Just as everyone was still savoring those words, the sharp school bell pierced through the undercurrents in the classroom.

Mr. Long, carrying a large stack of test papers, stepped onto the podium with a solemn expression. His sharp gaze swept over the various faces below, each with its own thoughts, before he slammed the test papers heavily onto the podium.

"Quiet down, all of you!" His voice carried an undeniable authority. "Look at you! The second mock exam is tomorrow! And you still have the mind to care about business gossip and family feuds thousands of miles away?"

The classroom fell silent instantly, save for the rustling sound of exam papers being passed around, a testament to the invisible pressure of the approaching college entrance examination.

"Those things are too far removed from you! Your battlefield is on the exam paper, in the examination hall!" Teacher Long's voice slammed down heavily. "Clear your minds! Focus on the present! Every question, every point, is what you should be fighting for right now!"

White exam papers fell onto everyone's desks like snowflakes. Xie Qingyan took one, his fingertips icy cold. He looked at the densely packed questions, and the clamor about the collapse of the Jiang family, the speculation and concern about Jiang Ci's situation, slowly receded like the tide.

---

The school bell that rings out is like a bell of redemption.

Xie Qingyan was almost the first to pack his bag and rush out of the classroom. He ignored the faint whispers behind him about the Jiang family incident, his steps quick yet steady, his destination clear—Moyunzhai.

Pushing open that familiar glass door, the wind chimes tinkled, and the scent of old books and sandalwood enveloped me, instantly shutting out the noise and restlessness of the school.

The bookstore was quiet, with only Mr. Shen behind the counter reading a book while wearing his reading glasses. He looked up and smiled gently at him.

Jiang Ci sat in his usual spot at the very back, not with a textbook in front of him, but with a thick copy of "Crime and Punishment." Hearing footsteps, he looked up, and the sunlight streaming through the window fell into his eyes. The once barren ice field had long since melted away, replaced by a serene and clear tranquility.

"You've arrived?" He closed the book, his voice not loud, but carrying the unique sense of tranquility found in the Ink Rhyme Studio.

"Hmm." Xie Qingyan walked over, put down her schoolbag, and naturally handed over the stack of test papers that the school had given her. "These are the test papers the teachers gave out. Tomorrow is the second mock exam, so none of the teachers went through the textbooks today. They just let us do the test papers to check for any gaps in our knowledge. I don't want to do the Chinese test anymore. Could you help me take a look at the science and math tests and tell me which questions are worth doing?"

Neither of them mentioned the explosive news of the day, as if they had expected this outcome, because it was Jiang Cheng's just deserts.

But they have more important things to do.

Jiang Ci took the papers and quickly scanned the math and science papers. His fingertips lightly touched the questions. Within minutes, he had circled several question numbers with a red pen.

“These questions are classic in format, and you tend to get stuck when switching between different approaches. These questions are more comprehensive, which is perfect for testing your recent knowledge connections.” He pushed the circled test paper back, paused, and a very faint, slightly mischievous smile appeared on his lips. “Basic questions are a waste of your time. But there will be a penalty for getting them wrong.”

Xie Qingyan was picking up his pen when he heard this and looked up: "What punishment?"

Jiang Ci leaned forward slightly, looking into his clear eyes through the narrow desk, lowering his voice and speaking each word with a burning intensity:

"Give me a kiss for every question I get wrong."

Xie Qingyan's face flushed instantly, from his ears to his neck. His fingers tightened around the pen, and his eyelashes fluttered rapidly, but he didn't avoid Jiang Ci's gaze. Instead, he nodded lightly, almost imperceptibly.

"good."

For the rest of the time, the only sounds in the bookstore were the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional soft turning of pages. Xie Qingyan was completely focused, utterly absorbed. Under his intense concentration, the complex formulas, abstract physical models, and intricate chemical equations were gradually disassembled, reassembled, and conquered.

Jiang Ci didn't disturb him, but quietly looked at her book, occasionally glancing up and letting her gaze linger on Xie Qingyan's lowered, serious profile. Sunlight streamed through the shop window, gilding his soft hair with a fluffy golden edge, and his long eyelashes cast fan-shaped shadows under his eyelids, trembling slightly as he pondered.

Time flies when you're focused.

When the clock struck an hour and a half, Xie Qingyan put down his pen and let out a long sigh. He pushed the completed test paper in front of Jiang Ci, his eyes showing the relief of having completed a challenge, and also a hint of barely perceptible anticipation?

Jiang Ci picked up the red pen and began to correct the errors. His expression was very focused, his brows sometimes furrowing and sometimes relaxing. Xie Qingyan's heart, too, rose and fell slightly with the rise and fall of that red pen.

Finally, the grading is complete.

Jiang Ci put down his pen, raised his eyes, and looked at Xie Qingyan. His expression was somewhat strange, as if he wanted to laugh, yet also as if he was trying his best to hold back something.

“Mathematics,” he began slowly, “I got three wrong. In the third part of the last big question, I drew the auxiliary line in the wrong direction; in the second to last multiple-choice question, I was careless in the calculation and forgot to look at a negative sign; and in the last fill-in-the-blank question, I didn’t consider the domain properly.”

Xie Qingyan pursed her lips.

"Comprehensive science," Jiang Ci continued, the hint of laughter in his voice becoming more pronounced. "I got two physics questions wrong, both related to the combination of magnetic fields and electromagnetic induction, and the model I built was flawed. I got three chemistry questions wrong: one was a wrong reasoning route for organic chemistry, one was a mistake in equilibrium calculation, and one was an imprecise experimental description. I got two biology questions wrong: one was a wrong calculation of genetic probability, and one was a confusion of ecological concepts."

He paused, picked up the exam paper covered in dense red annotations, and waved it in front of Xie Qingyan, his eyes shining with an astonishing light:

"So, Xie Qingyan, you have a total of ten kisses."

Xie Qingyan's face turned completely red, like a ripe cherry or the most magnificent sunset. He sat there, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his clothes, his long eyelashes drooping down, obscuring the shimmering light in his eyes.

Jiang Ci didn't urge him, but watched him leisurely, her gaze tender, full of patience and indulgence.

Finally, Xie Qingyan seemed to have made up his mind. He raised his eyes, glanced quickly at Jiang Ci, then stood up, walked around the table, and stood in front of Jiang Ci.

He bent down.

The first kiss, gentle and soft, landed on Jiang Ci's forehead. Like a feather brushing against him, it carried reverence and tenderness.

The second kiss landed on his brow. The warm touch dispelled any fatigue that might have lingered there.

The third one landed on the tip of his nose. It tickled a little, and Jiang Ci's eyelashes trembled.

The fourth one landed on his left cheek. Very lightly, very quickly, like a startled bird.

The fifth one landed on his right cheek. It was equally gentle, but with a more pronounced shyness.

The sixth one landed on his chin. There were newly sprouted, bluish stubbles there, slightly prickly.

The seventh note landed on his bobbing Adam's apple. Jiang Ci's breathing noticeably quickened.

The eighth one landed on the left corner of his lips. Xie Qingyan's lips were soft, carrying the fresh scent unique to young men.

The ninth one landed on the right corner of his lip, just a hair's breadth from the center.

The tenth...

Xie Qingyan paused for a moment, as if gathering his courage. Then, he closed his eyes, aimed at Jiang Ci's lips, and gently and earnestly pressed them together.

It was just a simple touch, as pure as the first snow.

But just as he was about to back away—

Jiang Ci made a move.

His arms, like vines already in place, suddenly wrapped around Xie Qingyan's waist, pulling him forward and firmly embracing him. His other hand gripped the back of Xie Qingyan's head, leaving him no room to retreat.

Then, he took the initiative and returned the kiss deeply.

This kiss was no longer the fleeting, superficial touches of the previous ten. It was passionate, lingering, and filled with pent-up emotions and a yearning for confirmation. Jiang Ci's tongue pried open his teeth, exploring, possessing, and intertwining gently yet forcefully. Xie Qingyan was initially stiff, but then, enveloped in that familiar, reassuring scent, his body softened, and he responded awkwardly yet wholeheartedly.

The air in the used bookstore seemed to thicken. Dust motes swirled in the sunlight, as if dancing to accompany this secret and passionate kiss. Behind the counter in the distance, Mr. Shen had quietly left, leaving this space entirely to the two teenagers.

After an unknown amount of time, Jiang Ci slowly released Xie Qingyan. Their foreheads touched, their breathing was rapid, and their warm breaths mingled together.

Jiang Ci looked at Xie Qingyan's lips, moist and swollen from being kissed, at his misty yet clear eyes, and at the lingering blush on his face. His heart felt as if it were filled with the softest feathers, or as if it were ignited by the strongest liquor.

He lowered his head and rubbed his nose against Xie Qingyan's, his voice hoarse and filled with an overwhelming emotion, each word etched into Xie Qingyan's heart:

"Xie Qingyan..."

"You're so lovable."

Xie Qingyan did not answer, but buried her burning cheeks deeper into Jiang Ci's neck, wrapping her arms around his neck and tightening them silently.

Outside the window, the setting sun paints the sky a warm orange-pink hue. The city lights begin to twinkle, signaling the approach of yet another ordinary yet bustling night.

In a quiet corner of the bookstore, two teenagers embraced tightly.

At this moment, all the storms, rumors, grudges, and disputes from the outside world are shut out.

They are the only ones here.

Only heartbeats that confirm each other's presence.

Only a peace as precious as surviving a catastrophe.

And, after those ten kisses, a deeper, sweeter kiss.