After Faking My Death, My Iceberg Ex-Wife Went Crazy for Me - Chapter 2

Within fifteen minutes, lured by the promise of a department dinner, the entire floor had emptied out.

Geng Xiaoxiao emerged from the restroom, weaving through a row of disheveled chairs to reach her workstation.

Her phone vibrated several times with messages from Xiao Miao asking where she was, but the person she had been waiting for so long still hadn’t sent a single word.

The jade-green thermos sat quietly on her desk. Geng Xiaoxiao lifted the handle and twisted it open.

It’s my fault for trying to take credit. If Aunt Zhang had come, none of this would have happened.

Tap—tap—

Leather shoes clicked evenly across the patchwork carpet, each step measured and deliberate.

The footsteps stopped behind her, but Geng Xiaoxiao didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry. Mi’er was being forced into a marriage alliance, and she came to me for help.”

The flat, emotionless statement served as both an apology and an explanation.

Geng Xiaoxiao remained silent, the thermos reflecting her distorted face in its polished surface, a humiliating sight.

“I only needed a few months to buy her time. After that, I’ll find another way,” Ye Ling added.

Geng Xiaoxiao turned, the chair wheels squeaking as she swiveled. She tilted her head back, her misty black eyes brimming with unshed tears, stubbornly refusing to spill over.

“President Ye,” she paused, struggling to catch her breath, “in what capacity are you offering me this explanation?”

“As your wife.”

Ye Ling gazed down at her, her peach-blossom eyes breathtakingly beautiful, yet her other features retained a cold detachment. When she lowered her gaze, she resembled a jade bodhisattva seated on a lotus throne.

But bodhisattvas are meant to save the world.

Geng Xiaoxiao turned her face away, silent.

“What were you doing under the table?” Ye Ling asked, her voice carrying a hint of a sigh.

“…Picking something up,” Geng Xiaoxiao mumbled, hiding her hand behind her back.

Ye Ling noticed the subtle movement and reached out, gently but firmly prying open Geng Xiaoxiao’s fingers.

Her pale, rosy palm bore four purplish-blue pinch marks.

Ye Ling paused, her tone tinged with resignation. “Don’t crawl under there again.”

Geng Xiaoxiao pressed her lips together. “The carpet gets professionally cleaned every week. It’s not dirty.”

“It’s not about whether it’s dirty or not…”

Ye Ling bent down, her fingers sliding between Geng Xiaoxiao’s, interlacing their hands.

As their faces drew closer, Geng Xiaoxiao caught that familiar, faintly bitter fragrance. For a moment, she felt Ye Ling’s warm breath brush against her ear.

It had been so long since she’d seen Ye Ling. This closeness, this intimacy, only existed in her midnight dreams.

Geng Xiaoxiao’s face flushed crimson, then drained to a deathly pallor.

She hated Ye Ling for her complete disregard for Geng Xiaoxiao’s feelings, and even more, she hated herself for being unable to resist Ye Ling’s nearness.

Her breathing grew ragged, her focus scattered. She didn’t notice that the breathing beside her had also faltered.

When Ye Ling stopped, their faces were so close that a slight turn of the head would bring their lips together.

“I meant, you don’t have to hide.”

Geng Xiaoxiao closed her eyes, barely registering the words.

With each breath, a tiny current of air brushed past her shoulder, grazing the most sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.

A shiver of goosebumps rose on Geng Xiaoxiao’s skin. She clenched her jaw, but a soft moan escaped her throat.

The sound was barely audible, yet it landed precisely in the ear beside her.

Ye Ling’s deep eyes rippled with emotion as she drew back.

“I’m sorry. There was some paper stuck to your clothes. I forgot for a moment…”

Forgot about my left neck, my most sensitive spot?

Geng Xiaoxiao turned her head, waiting for the lingering thrill to fade.

After a moment of silence, Ye Ling said abruptly, “I decided to return to the country at the last minute. I only arrived at the airport this morning and didn’t have time to tell you.”

This was her reply to Geng Xiaoxiao’s WeChat message.

Pausing, Ye Ling explained, “I asked Meng Lianqiu to have Zhou Cheng give you the day off. I didn’t expect you to come.”

“So President Ye thinks I shouldn’t be here?” Geng Xiaoxiao finally looked up, a cold smile playing on her lips.

“Xiaoxiao,” Ye Ling sighed, “joining Mo Yuan was your decision, and I won’t interfere. As for Mi’er and me, it’s just a charade to avoid an arranged marriage. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d misunderstand.”

“Is that all?”

Geng Xiaoxiao took a deep breath and continued, “Miss Shang must find me quite superfluous. After all, if I weren’t here, you two probably wouldn’t be ‘just putting on an act.'”

Ye Ling frowned. “I don’t believe speculating about hypothetical scenarios is meaningful.”

In that instant, Geng Xiaoxiao lost all desire to argue.

Meaning—wasn’t that the word Ye Ling cared about most?

She married Ye Ling to make amends.

She pretended to be engaged to Shang Mi’er out of childhood friendship.

She explained things to Geng Xiaoxiao out of her duty as a wife.

But Geng Xiaoxiao’s feelings were meaningless.

Geng Xiaoxiao withdrew her fingers one by one and handed over the insulated container. “Aunt Zhang’s soup—ginseng, astragalus, monkey head mushroom, and chicken stew. I only came for this.”

Ye Ling reached out to take it, her slightly cool fingertips brushing the back of Geng Xiaoxiao’s hand. Geng Xiaoxiao quickly pulled her hand back.

She heard Ye Ling call out helplessly, “Xiaoxiao.”

Geng Xiaoxiao forced a smile and pushed her chair back to create distance. “I won’t be quitting my job at Mo Yuan for now. In the future, it’s best if Miss Shang and I don’t meet.”

“I understand,” Ye Ling agreed. “The news has already spread. I’ll make sure she visits less often.”

Geng Xiaoxiao tugged at the corner of her mouth, hopped off the chair, and said calmly, “President Ye, please get back to work. I have other matters to attend to. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Wait, Xiaoxiao…”

“Please address me properly, President Ye.”

Geng Xiaoxiao stopped, turned, and smiled politely but distantly. “If others hear you, they might… misinterpret.”

Sharp, stabbing pains pulsed through Geng Xiaoxiao’s heart, making her suspect she was ill.

Back in her car, she checked her phone. The only message was from Xiao Miao, urging her to hurry over and join them for a feast, claiming the first batch of hotpot was already simmering.

Geng Xiaoxiao typed a reply: I worked too late last night and still feel a bit off. I’m heading home to rest. You guys enjoy!

A few seconds later, her phone vibrated.

Sanshui: Okay, get some rest.

Sanshui: /kiss

Exiting WeChat, Geng Xiaoxiao clutched her phone and mindlessly scrolled through her feed.

Even the usual adorable pet videos failed to spark her interest. She locked her screen, fastened her seatbelt, and started the car.

She didn’t know where she was going until the scenery along the road grew increasingly familiar.

It was the route to her grandmother’s house.

On a weekday afternoon, the road was nearly deserted, and she arrived in half the usual time.

After parking, Geng Xiaoxiao stared into the rearview mirror, repeatedly adjusting her expression.

Five or six minutes later, she got out of the car.

Jiang Yuheng’s home was an easy-to-find duplex with a courtyard. Turn right after entering the residential area, follow the cobblestone path to its end, and the house with the courtyard wall covered in climbing roses was the one.

Geng Xiaoxiao stood outside the gate, taking deep breaths of the air thick with the scent of flowers and damp earth.

Only when she had purged every trace of city dust from her lungs and felt her body light as a feather did she push open the unlocked courtyard gate and step inside.

The courtyard was deserted in the heat. Beneath the shaded arbor on the east side, a slightly scruffy calico cat lay sprawled on a rattan rocking chair.

Recognizing Geng Xiaoxiao, the cat’s wide eyes narrowed again, and it lazily flicked the tip of its tail.

Furry creatures seemed to possess an innate healing energy.

Geng Xiaoxiao’s smile grew more genuine as she approached and scratched the cat under its chin. “Xiao Hua, have you gotten even fatter?”

The remark was impolite, but Xiao Hua, a former stray who had been adopted the previous spring, had matured into a dignified and composed cat.

When Geng Xiaoxiao’s hand moved toward its belly, Xiao Hua merely twitched its ear.

The kitten, however, was far less composed. Barely a moment after settling down, Geng Xiaoxiao felt a tug at her pant leg.

Looking down, she saw a miniature version of Xiao Hua fiercely gnawing at the knot in her drawstring.

Still clumsy at avoiding the sun, the kitten’s delicate tail and half its body lay exposed to the sunlight, its fur puffed up like a tricolored dandelion.

A cat no bigger than a slipper posed little threat. Geng Xiaoxiao picked it up, and the kitten immediately began to wail at the top of its lungs.

“Miao!”

“You little ingrate! Don’t you recognize me?” Geng Xiaoxiao poked its round belly as usual.

This was the only surviving kitten from Xiao Hua’s litter, raised plump and pampered to the point of being utterly spoiled. Even when held, it refused to submit, twisting and struggling in her grasp.

Geng Xiaoxiao casually handed the kitten back to its mother, poked both their heads, brushed off the cat fur, and sauntered into the living room.

“Grandma!”

Stopping at the doorway, Geng Xiaoxiao cupped her hands into a megaphone.

“I’m hungry! I want your spicy chicken, braised pork, poached fish, stewed beef brisket…”

She listed a basketful of dishes—everything that flew, swam, or ran—until someone finally rushed out of the room.

“So that’s who’s been making all that racket outside.”

Jiang Yuheng, wearing an apron and holding a watercolor-stained brush, glared at her impatiently. “What’s with all the shouting? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Geng Xiaoxiao clung to her arm, feigning sweetness. “I wanted to surprise you! Aren’t you happy?”

“I’d be happiest if you didn’t bother me.”

Despite her words, Jiang Yuheng pulled Geng Xiaoxiao into the house, turned on the air conditioner, set down her paintbrush, and produced a package of cookies from who-knows-where. “Here, have some.”

The two bites Geng Xiaoxiao had eaten that morning were long gone, and she was genuinely hungry. She tore open the package and popped a cookie into her mouth, mumbling, “Were you painting?”

“Just doodling a bit.”

Ignoring the haughty tilt of Jiang Yuheng’s chin, she seemed genuinely modest.

But she had every right to be proud.

Jiang Yuheng had been a high school physics teacher, the kind who wrote questions for the national college entrance exam. After retiring, her former school rehired her, allowing her to continue shining in her role until she finally stepped down four years ago.

She didn’t stay idle for long. She earned a certification as a psychological counselor and became obsessed with watercolor painting, often spending entire afternoons in her study.

Geng Xiaoxiao, her mouth full, could only hum in acknowledgment. After swallowing the last bite, she looked around for more.

Jiang Yuheng frowned. “It’s barely past one o’clock. You haven’t had lunch yet?”

Geng Xiaoxiao replied sheepishly, “I didn’t have time…”

At this, Jiang Yuheng’s eyebrows shot up, her expression suddenly resembling that of a stern homeroom teacher.

“Honestly, you…”

“咕咕——”

Two sounds echoed simultaneously. Geng Xiaoxiao wanted to explain it was just her stomach growling, but the words caught in her throat. Clutching her belly, she wore a pitiful expression.

With her round eyes and knack for acting cute, few could resist her charms.

Jiang Yuheng’s brow furrowed, then relaxed. Muttering “Unbelievable,” she turned and strode into the courtyard.

Beyond the flowers, two small garden plots lined the walls, thriving with seasonal vegetables.

Jiang Yuheng plucked a handful of crisp greens and a small cucumber, then returned to the kitchen to boil a bundle of fresh noodles from the supermarket, plunging them into ice water to chill.

While the noodles cooked, she prepared the toppings. In a separate pot, she blanched chicken br3ast, also cooling it in ice water before shredding it into fine strands.

She tossed the noodles with chili oil, fragrant vinegar, cucumber strips, and blanched greens, garnishing the dish with chopped scallions to create a bowl of spicy and refreshing cold chicken noodles.

Geng Xiaoxiao devoured the noodles, showering them with praise that bordered on the hyperbolic, finally coaxing Jiang Yuheng out of her bad mood.

After clearing the dishes, the pair settled in the living room to chat. As they talked, Geng Xiaoxiao’s voice gradually softened.

She had fallen asleep.

“Meow~”

The kitten, either hungry or bored, rubbed against Jiang Yuheng’s leg. Jiang Yuheng quickly shushed it.

“Quiet down.”

Though the cat didn’t understand, it quieted down anyway. Still wary, Jiang Yuheng scooped it up and locked it in her room.

When she returned, Geng Xiaoxiao had slid down the sofa, her posture looking terribly uncomfortable.

Jiang Yuheng removed the cushion, straightened Xiaoxiao’s body, and retrieved a thin blanket from her room to cover her midriff and knees.

After tucking her in, Jiang Yuheng reached out and gently pressed her thumb between Geng Xiaoxiao’s brows.

“This child… even in her sleep, she looks so troubled.”