Chapter 147 The Truth in the Wardrobe
The familiar scent of cedar enveloped her, carrying the crispness of rain, which calmed Qu He's heart.
Zhuang Bieyan held a large black umbrella over her head with one hand, and tightly wrapped his other arm around her shoulder.
The corridor wasn't actually that long; it was just that Qu He was so preoccupied with something else that she was startled by the thunder.
Now that Zhuang Bieyan was holding her in his arms, she regained her senses and became clear-headed.
Zhuang Bieyan protected her as they walked out. He noticed that her shoulder was wet, with dark water stains clinging to her skin.
He frowned slightly, gently brushing the raindrops from his hair with his fingers. "Are you feeling unwell? Why is your face so pale?"
Qu He leaned against him, but her heart felt heavy and sour, as if something was blocking it.
She looked up, wanting to ask him about the tie, about his past with Yan Shu, about those trending topics that had been removed, but the words just wouldn't come out.
The seeds of doubt have already taken root in my heart.
She feared that the answer she would hear would mean losing even this embrace.
“It’s nothing,” she said, turning her face away to avoid his gaze. “It’s probably a bit cold. The air conditioning in the exhibition hall is blowing too hard, and it’s giving me a headache.”
These kinds of art galleries usually have the air conditioning on full blast.
Zhuang Bieyan, unsuspecting, pulled her closer to him, trying to dispel the chill from her body. "I'm sorry, it was my oversight. I forgot to prepare a shawl for you."
"fine."
The more considerate he was, the more bitter Quhe felt in her heart.
She composed herself and asked, "How did you get here so quickly?"
There are few cars on the road at this time.
Zhuang Bieyan spoke casually, opening the car door for her.
But only he knew that the car had been traveling at 100 miles per hour the whole way.
After the driver reported at noon that Qu He had arrived at the art center, that long-lost feeling of unease resurfaced.
He hated this feeling of being out of control, and couldn't even concentrate on processing documents.
He had no choice but to use the excuse of the rain getting heavier to come pick her up early. On the way there, he didn't know what he was rushing for; he was almost driven by his subconscious.
Only now that she was truly in his arms did Zhuang Bieyan's anxious heart finally settle down a little.
The temperature inside the car was comfortable.
Zhuang Bieyan gently and carefully wiped Qu He's rain-soaked shoulders with a tissue.
Qu He couldn't enjoy this thoughtfulness with peace of mind. Her gaze involuntarily drifted downwards and settled on the tie he was wearing today.
The dark blue striped tie has a simple design and no hidden swallow pattern.
At that moment, an idea suddenly popped into my head.
"What's wrong?" Zhuang Bieyan called out to her again when he saw her staring at him in a daze.
Qu He shook her head. "I'm fine. I want to go home. I want to go back right now."
All she wants now is to go home and verify her guess.
“Okay, let’s go home.” He started the car, his voice gentle. “I’ll make you something warm when we get back, something to warm you up.”
The Maybach drove into the rain.
Qu He was tightly enveloped by unknown fear.
Back at Wanhua Garden, the ingredients had already been delivered to my door.
Zhuang Bieyan told Qu He to go change her clothes first, while he went into the kitchen himself.
Qu He went straight to Zhuang Bieyan's tie storage area in the dressing room as soon as she entered the room, and pulled out the drawers one by one.
Solid colors, stripes, polka dots, checks...
There are many styles, but the one with the swallow pattern is missing.
Undeterred, she squatted down again and rummaged through the spare drawer on the floor.
As expected, it's gone.
Just as she thought.
That morning, in a half-awake state, she seemed to see Zhuang Bieyan carrying a bag and leaving the house. And from that day on, he stopped wearing the swallow-patterned tie.
So, what's in that bag?
Qu He closed the wardrobe door, took out her phone, and dialed the number of Aunt Zhong, who was in charge of the daily cleaning of the house.
The call was answered quickly.
"Hello?"
"Aunt Zhong, I am Qu He."
"Miss Qu?"
Aunt Zhong's voice immediately became slightly tense, "Oh dear, why are you calling me all of a sudden? Is there something at home that you haven't tidied up?"
"It's nothing serious, Aunt Zhong. I just can't find a white dress. I was wondering if I accidentally threw it away by mistake when I was sorting through old clothes last week, so I wanted to ask if you saw a white dress in the trash can when you came to clean the house last week morning?"
"A white dress?" Aunt Zhong drawled, trying hard to remember.
“I haven’t seen it, Ms. Qu. I remember clearly that for the past week or so, the house has mostly contained everyday household garbage and kitchen waste, not any large items of clothing or anything like that. I always keep an eye out for it when I clean.”
Qu He's tense shoulders relaxed, and she finally exhaled slowly, having been holding her breath.
"Oh, I see. Maybe I remembered it wrong, or maybe I put it in some corner. I'll look for it carefully at home later. Thank you for your help."
At that moment, she actually felt fortunate.
Maybe she's just overthinking it.
Guilt welled up inside me.
How could she be swayed by a few words from outsiders?
Just as she was about to hang up, Aunt Zhong, as if to reassure her, added, "Ms. Qu, don't worry, we all have formal contracts for our work, and we would never do anything sneaky like taking things!"
Qu He then realized that her phone call might have caused Aunt Zhong to misunderstand, thinking that she was being suspected.
She quickly explained, "Aunt Zhong, please don't overthink it, that's definitely not what I meant. That dress was originally a collection of old clothes that I planned to donate to the mountainous areas. It's okay if I can't find it, I'll look for it again. Please don't take it to heart."
Hearing her say that, Aunt Zhong breathed a sigh of relief, and her voice became lighter: "Oh, that's good, that's good."
"Actually, we're always very careful when we clean. Like last week, I saw several of Mr. Zhuang's ties in the trash can. They were all in perfect condition, not dirty or torn at all. Later, I even picked them up and asked Mr. Zhuang if he had accidentally thrown them away by mistake. Such nice ties, it's such a waste..."
Qu He could barely hear what was said after that.
“Aunt Zhong,” she interrupted, “you said you saw Zhuang Bieyan’s tie in the trash can last week?”
“Yes!” Aunt Zhong said confidently, “There were several! Later, Mr. Zhuang told me very clearly that he didn’t want them anymore and that I should just throw them away, so I disposed of them. The ties looked pretty good, and it was a shame to throw them away.”
"Okay, I understand. Thank you, Aunt Zhong. That's all. You can go ahead with your work." Qu He hung up the phone quickly.
The breath that had just been released now turned into the sharpest, coldest thorn, piercing my heart, both cold and painful.
The speculation was confirmed.
Something in Qu He's heart shattered.
She remembers that morning very clearly.
She kept a secret under the covers: she had finally realized that she had fallen in love with this man.
But what did he do that same morning?
Before she woke up, she calmly dealt with the ties that might hold secrets.
Was he throwing things away while simultaneously feeling relieved that the trending topic was removed in time in the middle of the night?
Did you think she was so easy to fool when you put on her new tie, believing everything she said?
She's very easy to fool, incredibly naive.
He went out in the middle of the night, saying he wanted to smoke. She believed him and was even happy that he was willing to share his secret with her.
He changed his tie in the morning, and she thought he just wanted to change his style, and was relieved that she was finally no longer upset.
He kept telling her to believe him, and she actually believed him.
My heart felt like it was being twisted by something, a sour feeling that rose up to my throat, astringent and bitter.
It's more painful than crying.
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