Chapter 6 The Pathological Relationship of Caged Birds.
Qiao Zimu waited anxiously for her answer, but seeing her remain silent for a long time, he was secretly annoyed that he had been too impulsive.
Logically speaking, after waiting for so many years, waiting a few more years wouldn't hurt. Initially, he was afraid of scaring her, so he didn't dare to mention it at all. He wanted to maintain the status of friends and take things slowly. But what he saw last night made him feel a strong and imminent sense of crisis.
He wasn't sure if he was overthinking it, but based on his consistently sharp intuition, the way Lan Jia and Meng Cenjun interacted was far too different from that of ordinary siblings; it could even be described as strange, unhealthy, and morbid...
This is similar to a feeding and being fed relationship.
Lan Jia wasn't a bird locked in a golden cage, but rather one that had been domesticated to the point of being unwilling to leave. Over time, even as its wings grew stronger, it remained convinced that it had no ability to fly. Even if one day it was disciplined too harshly and developed a rebellious self-awareness, it would only flap its wings a couple of times at the edge of the cage, get drenched by a light breeze, and then retreat back into Meng Cenjun's palm.
He would never forget the scene of the two embracing in the corridor. Meng Cenjun's strange and greedy expression was like the satisfaction of regaining a beloved possession, but at the same time, it was also a bit of fearlessness, certain that no matter how much they quarreled, Lan Jia would eventually obediently return to his side.
He always had a kind of old-fashioned parental desire to control her as if it were his right.
He was certain Meng Cenjun had seen him, just as he would a cockroach or ant lurking in a dark corner; he never paid her any attention. Because in Lan Jia's eyes, the weight of his feelings for her could never compare to their twenty years together.
But how could he accept that? Why could he just call Lan Jia away from him with a single phone call? Why couldn't he gain his approval no matter how much he begged and pleaded?
He has been thinking about Lan Jia since he was a child, and he can say without shame that he cares about her no less than he does about himself.
He couldn't say which of the siblings had a bigger problem, but Lan Jia was the only one he could win over. As soon as she showed the slightest sign of wavering, he would immediately seize the opportunity to get involved.
Only by stopping it as soon as possible can we prevent Lanca from being completely controlled by others.
Qiao Zimu's expression shifted from anticipation, nervousness, and trepidation to an almost humble and cautious one before he finally received Lan Jia's reply.
She chuckled twice, as if she found it utterly unbelievable, then slowly hardened her expression and asked, "Qiao Zimu, do you still want to be friends with me?"
Upon hearing these words, his heart sank, and his eyes stung with tears.
But he had anticipated this answer, so he pulled out another prepared explanation: "Lan Jia, I don't mean to force you. I just want you to have a choice no matter what situation you're in. What I said today is just a suggestion. If you have no idea, I won't mention it again. But I want you to understand that I will always be a trustworthy choice for you. As I said before, you can order me to do anything for you without any scruples, anything that is beneficial to you, anything you want to avoid, anything you hate..." Even if it's exploitation, he thought he would be happy to accept it.
"Lan Jia, I've always stood on the same side as you." He looked at her blank face and added this sentence with a sorrowful expression.
She wasn't stupid after all; after hearing these words, everything she hadn't understood before became clear. Perhaps there were moments when she vaguely sensed clues, but as if afraid of losing something, she chose to pretend not to see them. Now that he had taken the initiative to break the ice, Lan Jia felt a surge of resentment for no reason. Her mind was in turmoil, and her first thought was to ask Meng Cenjun for help. If he were there, he would definitely tell her what to do.
But then she started to despise herself. Did she really need him to dictate even her own love life? She must have been locked up in a cage and gone mad.
After all, they've been close friends for over a decade, and it's not worth having a falling out over this. Besides, what Qiao Zimu said makes sense, but she hasn't made up her mind to change anything yet.
Lan Jia nervously clutched the hem of her dress under the table, hesitating for a long time before finally speaking in a desperate tone: "I... I don't know yet, my mind is a mess. Let me think about it some more. Actually, Xiao Qiao... I think it would be better if we went back to the way we were before. Isn't it too early to talk about these things now?"
Seeing her flustered and evasive manner, his initial tension inexplicably relaxed, as if he had gained the upper hand. He gently comforted her, "It's okay, Lan Jia. I won't force you. Take your time to think it over."
"As for our relationship, whatever you want it to be, that's what it is. It's all up to you."
Lan Jia nodded hurriedly twice and said, "I'm done eating, I'll go back to my room now."
Seeing her walking straight ahead, Qiao Zimu stood up, deciding to add fuel to the fire, "Lan Jia! Actually, even without your brother's protection, you might still be capable of handling things on your own. Didn't you do very well on the ship yesterday?"
Lan Jia paused for a moment, then left without looking back.
He wasn't sure if she had listened, nor was he sure if Lan Jia would completely distance herself from him. But he didn't regret what he had said today. The power of a seed is immense; he wanted to take root in her heart, grow, and become so strong that she couldn't ignore it. Perhaps when the time was right, Lan Jia would naturally accept his proposal.
He has plenty of time and patience with her.
Lan Jia stood in the corridor, feeling a choking sensation as if she couldn't process all the information at once. She tried to recall if she had lost some of her memories, and then why did Meng Cenjun and Qiao Zimu seem like completely different people overnight?
Trapped in the fog for so long, a voice kept guiding me: Go find Meng Cenjun, go find Meng Cenjun...
She paced anxiously for a few moments, but ultimately couldn't resist the temptation and, as if desperate for help, knocked on Meng Cenjun's door.
After waiting for a while, the door finally opened, but the person in front of them was not Meng Cenjun.
"Brother Qin, where's my brother?" she asked anxiously.
"The master is still hosting a video conference." Seeing her like this, Zhou Zhu couldn't help but ask, "Are you not feeling well? Miss, you look terrible."
Lan Jia shook her head, somewhat disappointed. "Then I'll come back later, after you're done."
Zhou Zhu agreed, knowing that now was not a good time.
But just as Lan Jia was about to leave, a deep, cold voice came from inside: "Let her in."
Lan Jia was startled again, wondering what she had done to offend him this time.
Zhou Zhu was a perceptive person, and he lowered his voice to explain to her, "Several projects of the company have encountered serious problems, and the master is very angry right now."
Lan Jia let out an "Oh," secretly regretting that she had come at the worst possible time, practically walking right into a trap. But since Meng Cenjun had already spoken, she had no choice but to reluctantly go inside.
The suite had a small conference table, where Meng Cenjun sat with a gloomy face. When she saw her arrive, he only glanced at her briefly, not wanting to delay his business.
Lan Jia huddled in the corner of the sofa, enveloped by the oppressive atmosphere just a few steps away, not daring to make a sound.
Zhou Zhu came over and poured her a glass of orange juice, then went to the bar to get some snacks and fruit, as if he were entertaining a child.
However, she was sitting directly opposite Meng Cenjun, within his line of sight, making it impossible for her to comfortably treat this place as a resort. Helpless, like an employee who had made a mistake, she was forced to accept the baptism of the storm.
In fact, she had rarely seen Meng Cenjun at work, and at home she avoided the study he occupied. She never expected that he would be even more harsh on his subordinates, just like a ruthless factory owner during the Industrial Revolution.
This reminded her of an incident from when she was twelve years old. A stray cat wandered into the garden, thin and small, meowing from hunger. The new maid took pity on it and fed it some food. Gradually, the cat became attached to her, often sneaking into her house. Once, she caught it in the act, but the cat wasn't afraid of her at all, tentatively rubbing against her legs and lying down at her feet, cuddling affectionately. She liked it very much; the fluffy yellow and white kitten looked like a freshly baked loaf of toast. Practicing piano and painting all day was tedious and boring, and she began to look forward to these occasional little moments of happiness.
But gradually, the cat stopped coming, and the servant who fed the cat also disappeared.
She mustered up her courage to ask the housekeeper, Aunt Ming, who only said it was Meng Cenjun's idea.
The maid was fired, the cat was driven away, and her only source of joy was completely destroyed by him.
She burst into tears during her confrontation with Meng Cenjun, cursing him as a devil who wouldn't even spare a cat. He didn't comfort her, but patiently waited for her to finish crying before speaking to her in his usual calm and rational tone: "Lan Jia, the doctor doesn't recommend that you come into contact with allergens like cats and dogs."
She glared at him resentfully, resenting his indifference, his complete disregard for her feelings, and his perpetual assumption that she was being unreasonable.
It was from that time that she first felt a dark fear and suffocation towards Meng Cenjun, and even doubted whether it was really a mistake to form a family with him.
Only two years after her parents passed away, Meng Cenjun, who was in charge of the family, quietly turned into a tyrant.
The weight of the past made it hard for her to breathe; Lan Jia pinched her fingers and lowered her head even further.
Zhou Zhu couldn't help but sigh. Such a good brother and sister, yet they always acted like mice before a cat. He subconsciously observed Meng Cenjun's reaction and saw that he had fallen silent, seemingly realizing that his harsh words had frightened her.
Lan Jia was feeling down when Zhou Zhu came over and whispered in her ear, "Miss, if you don't want to stay here, you can go to your bedroom. The master left something for you."
She glanced at Meng Cenjun and noticed that his expression had softened a bit, before she got up and left as if fleeing.
Meng Cenjun's room was spotless, probably because she hadn't slept there the night before. She looked around, her gaze drawn to a large box on the bench at the foot of the bed, tied with a white ribbon, clearly a gift.
A belated gift for a business trip? Driven by curiosity, the slight gloom from before was temporarily forgotten.
She opened the gift box and found it contained clothing. She reached out and touched it; it was made of delicate and smooth silk.
The whole thing was lifted up and held high; it was an elegant black evening gown.
She was surprised to recognize that this was not an ordinary dress, but a costume from the movie "Montgomery," the black dress worn by the female lead Rosalie when the male lead fell in love with her at first sight.
Although the film is from the last century, the costumes were designed by the genius designer Pixie, and even decades later, they remain top-notch designs. Lanca was obsessed with this dress for a long time in high school, and it subtly influenced her choice to study costume design in college.
She remembered praising the tailoring twice in front of Meng Cenjun, but she never expected him to actually buy it for her. When she saw it a while ago, there was no sales channel for it, and she didn't know how he got it.
But without a doubt, Lan Jia was overflowing with happiness at this moment. She spread the dress of her dreams on the bed, looking at it with great affection, as if she had found a rare treasure on the beach, or reached a secret base through a wisteria vine corridor, completely absorbed, almost as if she were in a dreamlike wonderland.
Meng Cenjun was leaning against the doorway at some point, quietly watching her tireless expression, a hint of softness appearing in her previously somber eyes.
But not long after, Lan Jia seemed to lose her enthusiasm, blankly touching her skirt, and then knelt down on the bed in a very dejected state, her happiness withered, like a plush bear whose cotton had been removed.
He straightened up, stepped over, and asked, "Don't you like it?"
Hearing the voice behind her, Lan Jia hurriedly straightened up.
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