After Bringing Joy to the Short-Lived Mad Young Lady - Chapter 23

The relationship between Zong Heng and Fang Yi grew increasingly strained.

Even though they worked in the same office, seeing each other daily, there seemed to be little communication between them.

This was practically common knowledge throughout the entire company.

Most people chalked it up to two talented individuals on similar paths inevitably clashing—like two kings unable to coexist.

Wang Quan had asked Jiang Xiye many times, both openly and subtly, whether they should separate the two. After all, the company wasn’t short on office space, and it wouldn’t do to make either of them uncomfortable.

What if their mutual dislike ended up affecting their collaboration on research and development?

But Jiang Xiye remained firm, gently dismissing the idea each time.

While everyone else worried that Fang Yi and Zong Heng would end up at each other’s throats, she took a different view—she believed they would eventually become competitors, mentor and student, and even friends.

The only other person who shared this belief was an unofficial cake-maker—Duan Ruoxi.

After that rainy-night kiss, Fang Yi began deliberately avoiding Lin Shuxing. She threw herself entirely into her work, rarely seeking Lin Shuxing out even during breaks.

She claimed it was to avoid disturbing Lin Shuxing’s college entrance exam preparations. The most they interacted was through video calls where Fang Yi explained problems to her.

The camera was always pointed at scratch paper, showing only Fang Yi’s slender, well-defined hands. Her handwriting, much like her personality, was clean and precise—each stroke elegant, each solution straightforward.

Lin Shuxing didn’t mind this slightly awkward, shy dynamic. Though she wished Fang Yi would stop calling her “comrade” all the time.

Still, it could be considered a small amusement amid the high-pressure grind of studying.

It was kind of cute, actually. She liked it. ^^

Even though their online exchanges were as formal as official documents, Lin Shuxing deliberately started addressing Fang Yi as “Teacher Fang.”

Lin Shuxing had school, Fang Yi had work—so Duan Ruoxi, who had come to “take care of the household,” built a bridge between them with her little cakes.

At first, Duan Ruoxi had only wanted to make cakes for Fang Yi to thank her for standing up for her that day.

She was very considerate, always checking with Lin Shuxing before acting. So, in the basket of fragrant little cakes, there were often small notes tucked inside.

These notes were usually on whimsically shaped memo papers, each day bearing just a line or two of casual thoughts:

“There was fog this morning. The driver’s skills aren’t as good as yours. When are we going on that road trip to the grasslands?”

On the plain white memo, a red pen had drawn a car with a big bouquet of flowers inside.

“Teacher Fang, guess who came in first in the joint exam.”

A little fish-shaped memo, signed “Your student.”

……

A girl’s heart is always full of poetry, and even these offhand little notes were unbearably sweet.

Fang Yi opened each one with great care, as solemn as an underground operative receiving coded messages. She pretended to eat the cakes while secretly swallowing every bit of that sweetness.

But she clearly wasn’t a very good secret-keeper—she didn’t destroy the evidence. Instead, she stealthily pressed each note flat between the pages of a book, then stored them all in a cleaned-out candy box.

This box, along with her mechanical hard drives full of data, was locked away in the bottom drawer of her desk—hidden away like a dragon’s treasure hoard.

Duan Ruoxi visited often, always bringing extra cakes to share with Fang Yi’s colleagues.

“I made too many, and it’d be a waste not to eat them. Please, everyone, help yourselves.”

“Oh? You like them? I’ll make even more tomorrow.”

Duan Ruoxi was as gentle as the cakes she made, and everyone adored her.

She really seemed like she wanted to “join this family.”

But the role she played was that of a sweet mother.

For Zong Hen, Fang Yi’s so-called “archenemy,” Duan Ruoxi would even prepare a separate portion for her, coaxing her gently, “I heard you’re very skilled and patient. Please take good care of our Xiao Yi. Do you like this flavor? Is it too sweet for you?”

Without any prior communication with Jiang Xiye, Duan Ruoxi surprisingly aligned with her, stubbornly believing that Zong Hen and Fang Yi might actually become good friends.

“Because both of you are very gentle and pure-hearted people.”

Zong Hen: ==?

Fang Yi: ==?

System: OvO Who?

Duan Ruoxi paid no attention to their reactions, her eyes curving into crescents as she smiled even brighter. “See? You two are so in sync!”

“Engineer Zong, I noticed yesterday that you like this. Xiao Yi loves it too.”

She casually took out an exquisitely packaged mini cake and placed it on the table with both hands.

This was the Nth day in a row that Duan Ruoxi had been delivering cakes, more punctual than their lunch breaks at work.

Zong Hen’s brow twitched slightly. She glanced down at the Black Forest cake, her sharp teeth rolling once before she managed to utter a relatively mild remark: “Do you have nothing better to do?”

“Yep! Because I’m a full-time housewife.”

Duan Ruoxi didn’t take offense at all, smiling as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “If I don’t make cakes, I’d have absolutely nothing to do. Besides, I love making them.”

The Lin family had hired her as a second wife for Lin Shuxing, offering a very high salary. If she didn’t do something in return, she’d feel uneasy.

The packaging for Fang Yi’s portion was different from the others—it even emitted a golden glow when opened.

Feeling a bit guilty for troubling Duan Ruoxi to deliver these every day, even extending the courtesy to her colleagues, Fang Yi said awkwardly, “Thank you, they’re delicious. Let me pay you.”

“You’ve already paid me.”

“Huh?”

Seeing Fang Yi’s confused expression, Duan Ruoxi leaned in slightly and explained, “That day in the living room—you helped me secure two million.”

“I was in desperate need of money. That sum was very, very important to me.”

She spoke with utmost sincerity, placing a hand over her chest as if making a vow. “I’ve never forgotten your kindness.”

The gesture was a bit too grand, and Fang Yi quickly pulled her up. “No, no—that was compensation you rightfully deserved.”

Logically, the Lin family’s salary wouldn’t have shortchanged her, but Fang Yi could sense an unusual restraint in Duan Ruoxi.

She believed that if she hadn’t intervened that day, even if Lin Chong had crushed Duan Ruoxi’s hand on the broken glass, she probably wouldn’t have resisted.

Because she needed this job. She was truly desperate for money.

Clang—

Zong Hen pushed the door open and left.

Duan Ruoxi glanced at the door with gentle eyes before leaning closer to Fang Yi and whispering, “The injury on your face—was it done by Miss Mizu Sadame?”

“…” It had been a relief to finally meet someone who didn’t pay attention to the scratch on her face. How had she held back for days only to ask now?

She wasn’t some celebrity who relied on her looks—what did a tiny scratch matter?

“No, I fell. What could she possibly do to me?” Fang Yi lied without batting an eye.

Duan Ruoxi nodded knowingly, a faint smile playing on her lips as she lowered her voice further. “Last night, the young mistress claimed she had a nightmare and smashed Miss Mizu Sadame’s altar.”

“A nightmare?”

Fang Yi’s movements paused, a hint of frustration creeping in. The dreamstone hadn’t lit up last night—had she missed her dream by working too late?

Duan Ruoxi gently redirected her focus. “Mm, smash the altar.”

In the dead of night, Lin Shuxing had pushed open the door to the shrine dedicated to Water Without Permanence without warning. By the time the servants heard the commotion and rushed over, all that remained was chaos—offerings scattered across the floor, the girl’s fleeting figure just disappearing into the distance.

On the evening Lin Lan came knocking, Fang Yi hadn’t told Lin Shuxing what had happened. She’d only mentioned running into a reckless driver who splashed water on her, and that the scratches were from an accidental fall.

Of course, the young mistress wouldn’t overturn an altar without reason. She must have pieced things together and was standing up for her.

Fang Yi almost laughed, tempted to message her and say she hadn’t actually been at a disadvantage.

But then she remembered Lin Shuxing was about to take her college entrance exams—she should be focusing entirely on her studies, not getting caught up in… trivial matters like this. Fang Yi forced herself to push her half-drawn phone back onto the desk.

“I’ll head out now. I’ll bring you some homemade milk tea tomorrow—cut back on the cola and coffee, they’re not good for you.”

Duan Ruoxi checked the time and meticulously packed up the leftovers from Fang Yi and Zong Heng’s meals.

“Thank you. Be safe on your way back.”

The office finally settled into quiet. Fang Yi discreetly pulled out today’s little card just enough to reveal a pair of tiny wings.

A paper crane.

This one was pure white, unmarked, and sturdier than usual, larger than a typical memo.

The system popped up with orange bubbles, smugly instructing this clueless, childhood-deprived individual: Pull its tail—the wings will move!

Fang Yi: I know.

As always, she carefully placed the crane into her tin box without fiddling with it, afraid of damaging it.

Outside.

The moment Duan Ruoxi turned the corner, she ran into Zong Heng standing by the window. The woman turned, her immaculate clothes bearing a smudge of cream.

“Inside is the procurement list.”

Zong Heng handed her an envelope, her tone stiff and bureaucratic:

“Since you deliver daily, we’re not in the habit of taking advantage. This is the afternoon tea supplies the logistics team wants to purchase. If you have objections, take it up with them in Room 919.”

“Ah—”

Duan Ruoxi gasped softly, covering her mouth. “Did you apply for this? Thank you, but I might not be able to handle much… It’s just a hobby…”

“Take it. It’s not much—just the amount you bring daily, at market price.”

“If you don’t want it, you can throw it away.”

Zong Heng shoved the envelope at her, the detachment in her eyes making it clear she had no interest in further conversation. She strode off without another word.

Duan Ruoxi squeezed the envelope—thick. She retreated to a corner and opened it, catching a glimpse of crisp red inside.

When Zong Heng returned to the office, she found her desk suspiciously empty. After staring at Fang Yi for a long moment, she finally snapped, louder than intended: “Where’s my stuff?”

She’d deliberately saved half for later, planning to savor it properly.

Fang Yi looked up from her code, puzzled. “The cake? You didn’t finish it, so someone kindly cleared it away.”

Leaving more than half uneaten—typical of someone from Yanjing. A world-class scientist with the appetite of a bird.

“…”

Zong Heng pressed her lips together, the air around her turning heavy.

But then, she always seemed like that. Fang Yi noticed nothing unusual and went back to her work.

At five in the afternoon, Zong Heng left work on time for once, breaking her usual routine.

Fang Yi watched her leave with mild surprise, then stood up after a moment and stretched lazily.

She walked to the glass window, her gaze settling on the heavy dark clouds looming at the horizon. Under the gray-blue haze, the city looked unusually desolate.

The air carried a faint hint of dampness, as if rain was imminent.

The woman couldn’t help but wonder—had Lin Shuxing finished school by now? Did she bring an umbrella?

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her phone screen lit up, its soft glow reflecting on the glass.

A black-faced cat avatar blinked with a red notification dot. Fang Yi put on her earphones and heard the girl’s clear, melodious voice.

AAA Fiancée: “Ms. Fang, are you off work yet?”

Though this wasn’t the first time Lin Shuxing had called her that, the girl seemed particularly cheerful today. Her voice was light and unhurried, like a feather drifting down to land on the tip of her heart, sending an odd, tingling shiver through her.

Especially that upward lilt at the end—Fang Yi could almost feel a faint electric current traveling through the earphones and coursing through her entire body.

But her phone wasn’t charging right now. There was no way it could be leaking electricity.

Fang Yi rubbed her slightly reddened ears, her fingers swiping across the screen—switching to text, then back to the home screen, then swiping back again. After confirming no one was around, she finally tapped the next notification with a sigh of relief, feeling a little ridiculous for making such a fuss.

Her cautious demeanor made it seem less like she was checking a message and more like she was defusing a bomb that might explode in her hands at any second.

AAA Fiancée: “I bet you didn’t pull the tail of the paper crane.”

AAA Fiancée: “Go on, give it a tug ^^.”

She had been predicted…

Fang Yi took out the paper crane but didn’t immediately follow the instruction. Instead, she first searched on her computer for how to fold one.

Her slender fingers slowly traced the edges of the paper, her heartbeat quickening with each fold and unfold, as if the entire world had stilled in that moment.

With a slight tug of her fingertip, the crane’s wings fluttered—then the entire structure loosened and collapsed, unfolding into a flat sheet of paper, revealing the “girl’s secret” hidden on the other side.

But when Fang Yi saw what was written on it, her carefully controlled expression finally cracked.

Her pupils constricted sharply, her breath catching in her throat. Ripples of shock spread through her eyes as they reflected the astronomical figure on the paper.

The system let out a shrill scream: Holy sh1t! A check!!!! How many digits is that?!?!

Unlike the black card Lin Lan had given her, this was a concrete, precise number—starting with 52, followed by a long string of zeros.

Fang Yi’s fingers curled slightly, pressing the thin check against her palm. The coolness of the paper under her fingertips felt more like touching a scalding branding iron.

What did this money mean?

Why was she suddenly being given money?

Someone who had never been in a relationship had no idea what such a specific number signified. The romantic implication of its homophonic meaning was drowned out by the sheer magnitude of the sum. Unaccustomed to accepting such generosity, all she felt was a vague unease.

Money was a critical resource. Even for the wealthy, this was no small amount.

The weight of this check was almost equivalent to an armory in the apocalypse, yet it had been folded into such an adorable form before being handed to her… Fang Yi was bewildered.

Fragments of the cheesy soap operas Wang Quan had played flashed through her mind—Take this money and leave my daughter, Accept this check and sever all ties between us, Woman, is this check enough to buy your entire life?

Fang Yi shook her head, dispelling those chaotic thoughts, and pressed a hand against the bridge of her straight nose. After Lin Shuxing returned home, had anything happened?

Duan Ruoxi said everything in the Lin family was fine, no different from before.

In the empire controlled by Lin Lan, once she decided something, no one could defy her. If she declared Lin Shuxing was her daughter, then Lin Shuxing would still retain her inheritance rights.

But the difference in Lin Lan’s treatment of them was so stark—how could an adopted daughter and a biological daughter ever be treated equally?

Where had this money come from? Had the girl suffered any grievances because of it?

Her phone lit up again, this time with a video call.

Fang Yi hesitated for a moment before quickly pressing the answer button.

She had a habit of anticipating the worst-case scenario to prepare countermeasures in advance. Fortunately, as the screen brightened, the troubling images she had feared did not appear.

The girl on the screen held a copy of Das Kapital, covering half of her lips, which curled into a sly smile. Slowly lifting her eyelids, her gaze traveled upward, slightly teasing through the camera, her eyes carrying a subtle yet bold aggression.

Her voice came through the headphones, clear and bright, laced with a hint of coquettish temptation:

“Professor Fang, don’t refuse me…”