Feverish Spring Night - Chapter 15

“……”
What a way to hit the sore spot.
Liking someone really doesn’t feel good — it’s like your heart is locked in chains, easily swayed by just a single word from them, making you happy or sad in an instant.
Jiang Zhi’er had once read a saying: “When one day your emotions are no longer affected by others, that’s when you’ve truly become independent and grown as a person.”
She couldn’t help but quietly glance sideways at Cheng Jingwei.
If it were Cheng Jingwei, he wouldn’t be so easily influenced. But how could one stay calm when they are in love with someone?
Back home, they went upstairs together.
If he were only a guardian, Cheng Jingwei would undoubtedly be the ideal “elder from someone else’s family.”
He taught her how to be a person, how to grow — but he never forced her. He only gently guided her direction and let her walk forward on her own. He had become her strongest support, her safe harbor.
Jiang Zhi’er knew she should be grateful… that he cared for her after her grandmother passed.
But she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more. She couldn’t help falling deeper and deeper for him with every passing day.
She knew his joking words, “But if Er’er really finds someone as old as me, I might have to break you two apart,” were only a joke… yet they kept her awake all night.
The night light was on, casting a gentle warmth into the room.
It was late, and everyone was asleep.
Jiang Zhi’er sat up, opened her drawer, and took out a diary hidden in the very back.
This diary recorded every detail of her secret love for Cheng Jingwei.
Under the dim light, the little girl lowered her head, her hair sliding off one shoulder. Her eyes were slightly red as she wrote, one word at a time—
I will never prepare a gift for you again.
—
The next day.
She woke up to find that Cheng Jingwei, unusually, had not left early for the company. Instead, he was sitting at the dining table having breakfast.
He looked up and saw the little girl yawning. “Didn’t sleep well?” he asked.
Jiang Zhi’er froze mid-yawn and quickly regained composure. “Second Uncle, did you get up late today?”
“I have a basketball game this morning, so I won’t be going to the company.”
“…Basketball?”
“Golf.”
“Oh.”
Aunt Chu served her breakfast.
Gracefully cutting into his Western meal, Cheng Jingwei casually said, “Er’er can play the drums?”
“…”
Why did he bring up last night’s embarrassment again?
Already exhausted from lack of sleep, Jiang Zhi’er felt even more deflated. “Yeah.”
“Do you like it?”
Unsure why he was asking, she replied, “It’s okay. I only learned for two years.”
“I don’t play any instruments, but being able to perform with a band in just two years is impressive,” he commented. “If you like it, don’t bury your talent. I can find you a teacher so you can continue.”
Jiang Zhi’er hesitated. “…But… don’t you dislike me like that?”
Cheng Jingwei raised an eyebrow, surprised she misunderstood.
“Of course not, Er’er. I told you from the beginning — you have the freedom to grow into whoever you want to be. If you need me, I’ll do my best to support you.”
His tone was casual, the faint smile relaxed — yet he was incredibly serious.
“I’m just worried you’d be in danger in that kind of environment. After all… you’re still too young and beautiful.”
The last two words stunned her.
Cheng Jingwei… praising her… saying she was beautiful.
Was this real?
Was she hallucinating?
Did he really think she was beautiful?
Jiang Zhi’er pinched her thigh beneath the table.
…Ouch.
It was real.
Noticing her silence, Cheng Jingwei tilted his head — her cheeks were flushed scarlet.
He chuckled helplessly. “You’ve received so many love letters — don’t you know you’re beautiful?”
“Not that many…” she whispered after sipping milk. “I never really thought about whether I like drums or not. I only learned to rebel against my aunt for forcing me to learn piano.”
Cheng Jingwei paused, tightening his grip on his fork.
“Why didn’t you want to learn piano?”
“Because she said learning piano would help me marry a powerful man in the future to support the family business.”
His brows furrowed.
She looked innocent — but in truth, she understood far too much, and was deeply affected by even the smallest warmth in his gaze.
“Er’er,” his voice gentled, “from now on, you learn things only because you want to. And your future partner can be anyone you love — no matter their status — as long as they treat you well.”
“…Yes.” She lowered her head. But I love you. And you’ve always treated me well, too.
“What if… the person I like… the gap between us is too big?”
“What kind of gap?”
“What if they’re the best person in the world… and I’m completely unworthy?”
Cheng Jingwei laughed softly, finding her exaggeration adorable.
“Even then, you should never feel inferior because of a man. You’re not dependent on anyone. You deserve the best.”
—
During math class, Jiang Zhi’er opened her diary again.
Reading the previous entry, she hesitated… then picked up her pen and wrote beneath it:
What kind of gift would you like?
Her love was irrational.
But getting angry was even more unreasonable.
She pulled out her phone and texted the bar’s finance coordinator — she would no longer perform with the band.
The coordinator, who had already heard rumors about last night, was stunned. Speculation about her and “Mr. Cheng” was flying everywhere.
Of course, the coordinator needed to check with Cheng Jingwei about the salary. She didn’t have his contact, so she reached out to Xu Yin.
When Xu Yin heard the name “Jiang Zhi’er,” he paused — then handed the phone to Cheng Jingwei.
A deep, elegant male voice came through. Just by hearing it, one would know he was noble.
“Hello.”
The coordinator unconsciously straightened her posture. “Hello, Mr. Cheng…”
After explaining, she cautiously asked:
“So… should Zhi’er’s salary still be paid as promised?”
“Did she go there because she’s short of money?”
“I’m not sure. Young Master Cheng brought her over and set the monthly wage at 20,000 yuan…”
Cheng Jingwei paused — pen stilled in his slender fingers. The acquisition contract before him was forgotten.
Of course, she wouldn’t ask him for money — she was shy and proud. And she still had her New Year’s money. She shouldn’t need anything.
Perhaps she had seen something she wanted. Girls her age liked cute little things. Nothing unusual.
“Pay her as agreed.”
“She’s been there almost two weeks, so should I give her ten thousand?”
“Twenty thousand. Full month.”
A beat of silence.
“…Actually, make it fifty thousand.”
“F–fifty thousand?”
“Mm. Find a reason. Don’t tell her it was me.”
The coordinator was now certain — Jiang Zhi’er was no ordinary girl.
—
Near the end of school, the payment arrived.
She stared at the text message for nearly a minute before calling to check. The coordinator played it perfectly — calling it a “bonus.”
Jiang Zhi’er was shocked by how kind Cheng Jingwei and everyone around him were.
Shao Xu came over and patted her shoulder. “What’s so funny about getting rich?”
“Because I got rich.” Jiang Zhi’er grinned. Then suddenly — “Xuxu, are you free later? I want to pick out a gift.”
“For that secret crush?”
“…Yeah.”
Seeing that Cheng Jingwei’s birthday was approaching, Jiang Zhi’er still hadn’t decided on a gift. She had considered a suit—or a suitcase.
Both came with their own hidden meaning: the suit so he could wear it close to him, and the suitcase so he could take it along on business trips.
But once she actually stepped into one of the mall’s top luxury stores, she realized that even such “simple” gifts cost a fortune.
The money she had simply wasn’t enough. Even Shao Xu, who had grown up spoiled, was stunned by the prices.
“Er’er, you’re just giving your secret crush a birthday gift. Isn’t giving him something this expensive too much pressure?” Shao Xu asked.
“But he usually buys these kinds of brands,” Jiang Zhi’er replied. “I can’t give him something he won’t use, right?”
“Is there anyone in our school that extravagant? Didn’t you say it wasn’t Cheng Jiayao?”
Jiang Zhi’er lowered her head guiltily. “…He’s not from our school.”
“Huh?” Shao Xu was stunned. “Who is he then? How do you know him? And why a suit? Is he older?”
A flood of questions came all at once.
“He’s older… by a few years. Which makes it even harder,” Jiang Zhi’er admitted.
Thankfully, Shao Xu didn’t pry any further and simply nodded. “Yeah, the generation gap. Like with my brother—I never understand what’s going on in his head.”
“…”
“But you could borrow money from your uncle. Could your secret crush possibly be as rich as him?”
“…”
What a mess.
Just then, Jiang Zhi’er’s eyes caught a display case in the middle of the store. Jewelry—elegant and understated—gleamed beneath the lights.
“What are these?” she asked.
“Cufflinks,” the saleswoman answered. Having overheard them, she continued, “They make the perfect gift for a man who often wears formal attire. With your budget, a luxury suit might be difficult—but here, you can choose the finest cufflinks.”
Jiang Zhi’er leaned in to look closer.
They were no larger than a coin—yet each one was exquisitely crafted.
After a moment of hesitation, she pointed at one pair. “Can I see this one?”
“You have excellent taste! This is one of our classic Heritage Series designs.”
Jiang Zhi’er held the cufflink in her palm.
Small and delicate—its intricate gear design sparkled with interlocked diamonds, set on an understated obsidian base bearing the brand’s monogram.
Elegant. Refined. Subtle, yet meaningful.
The saleswoman smiled. “Gears symbolize ‘locking’—so if you’re giving this to someone you love, it carries a message. A way to express your heart.”
Jiang Zhi’er’s fingers tightened slightly.
Locked—
“Please wrap it up for me. Thank you.”
And just like that, a month’s worth of agonizing—and misunderstandings—came to an end.
Shao Xu finally realized Jiang Zhi’er had made her choice solely due to the word “locked” and couldn’t help laughing. “Er’er, you really like him too much,” she sighed—then gleefully asked whether she should engrave a special message on it.
—
Cheng Jingwei’s birthday wasn’t celebrated loudly this year. With Cheng Huaixian’s funeral just over, no one wanted festivities to feel inappropriate.
Still, many people came bearing gifts.
When Jiang Zhi’er returned home from school, the living room was already filled with boxes and beautifully decorated bags.
Just as Cheng Jiayao had said—
Cheng Jingwei never showed personal preference. No one knew what to choose for him, so they simply aimed high. Fine wines, rare teas, antique collectibles—most came from decades-old private collections with no true market equivalent. The antiques? Likely auction pieces.
The more Jiang Zhi’er looked, the more embarrassed she became… The cufflinks in her schoolbag suddenly felt insignificant, despite all her effort and heart poured into them.
A voice came from behind her—
“What do you like?”
Cheng Jingwei stepped out of the study, followed by another man, Xu Zhiyan, whom she had met at the bar last time.
Jiang Zhi’er instantly panicked and waved her hands. Xu Zhiyan greeted her lazily, “Good thing I didn’t admit it, or I wouldn’t know who to give my gift to.”
Cheng Jingwei snorted. “Didn’t you say it was for my birthday?”
“If you like it, then all these years of knowing you were a waste,” Xu Zhiyan replied.
Jiang Zhi’er didn’t understand this riddle. Cheng Jingwei stretched out his hand to her. “Come.”
She followed him to a vacant room next to the study. He pushed the door open.
Softly: “Do you like it?”
Inside—
A stunning pink-and-white gradient drum set, metallic finish gleaming atop the camel-hair gray carpet.
The gift’s intended recipient was obvious.
Xu Zhiyan grinned. “Do you like it?”
She nodded immediately.
Who wouldn’t like something so beautiful?
A top-tier setup like this must have cost a fortune. Jiang Zhi’er had been secretly learning and could never dream of owning one—let alone one so perfect.
But—
“This is too expensive…”
She couldn’t accept it.
She didn’t understand why Xu Zhiyan would give her something worth this much.
Xu Zhiyan stared at Cheng Jingwei in disbelief. “Hey Wei, is this how you raise your girl? They say daughters should be pampered in luxury — but you’re being way too stingy!”
“…”
The word stingy simply did not belong anywhere near Cheng Jingwei.
“I’ll take you on a lavish journey myself,” Xu Zhiyan continued dramatically. “Come with me, little sister!”
“…”
His words hit like a barrage of bullets—leaving her more confused by the second.
She instinctively turned toward Cheng Jingwei.
He leaned casually against the wall, arms folded—broad shoulders under the warm lamplight, his presence both noble and quietly indulgent.
He guided her softly: “Say thank you, Brother.”
If she didn’t know the price, she could’ve said it easily.
But hundreds of thousands…
She hesitated until she could finally whisper, “Thank you… Brother.”
“It was worth custom-ordering it then,” Xu Zhiyan said with a grin.
“Isn’t this too expensive?” she asked carefully.
“It’s not. If I didn’t think you might like it, I wouldn’t be able to give it at all.”
“…?”
Wouldn’t be able to… give it?
Jiang Zhi’er tightened her grip on her schoolbag’s strap.
What about the gift she prepared?
“Don’t feel pressured,” Cheng Jingwei reassured, draping an arm over her shoulder. “This is technically his gift to me. He’s just being dramatic.”
“I object!” Xu Zhiyan protested. “Look at all those gifts outside. Will you even remember who gave what? But as long as my sister likes this, she will always remember it came from me! King You of Zhou paid a thousand gold for a smile — I’m doing the same!”
At that, both Cheng Jingwei and Jiang Zhi’er looked at him.
Xu Zhiyan immediately realized his slip.
King You of Zhou and Bao Si?
Wrong relationship.
Very wrong.
Cheng Jingwei ignored it. “Let’s eat.”
Xu Zhiyan didn’t stay. He claimed he had plans with his girlfriend.
During casual chatter, Cheng Jingwei asked when he planned to settle down. Xu Zhiyan waved it off — he and his girlfriend were “single.”
“Single?” Jiang Zhi’er asked quietly once he was gone.
She had only seen the term online, never in real life.
“Mm.” Cheng Jingwei answered calmly. “They think marriage is troublesome and selfish — and that it involves too many family interests. So, staying single is simpler.”
She blinked. “What about you, Second Uncle?”
But his world was very different.
Now the official head of Chengzhen Group — he carried the family legacy and the livelihood of tens of thousands. He didn’t have the luxury of personal whims.
He had enemies watching, waiting. Even a staged accident could shift the power struggle if he remained heirless.
But he didn’t tell her all that.
Instead, he simply said, “After the old man passed, I offended the veteran directors. I might really be alone.”
“Really?”
Her eyes lit up like stars — so obvious, she didn’t even realize.
“Why are you so happy about my loneliness?” he asked, raising a brow.
“Ah—”
She panicked. Too late to hide it.
He waited.
Desperately, she grabbed at any excuse.
“Because… because if you get married… I wouldn’t know where to go.”
She lowered her gaze.
“I can’t live with you and your wife.”
He chuckled softly. “Then what should I do?”
She peeked up at him, gathering courage bit by bit.
“Second Uncle… could you maybe… wait until I graduate high school before you think about marriage?”
By then, she would be an adult.
Maybe then… a confession wouldn’t sound so unimaginable.
“By then I’ll be thirty,” he laughed. “If you delay my marriage prospects…, how will you compensate me?”
“…”
The imagery that conjured made her face turn red.
Knowing he meant nothing improper only made her feel more ashamed for thinking it.
“What… compensation do you want?” she whispered.
Cheng Jingwei suddenly recalled the rumors when he first brought her home — that he was raising her as an heir, intending never to marry nor have children.
So, he joked, “How about Er’er becomes my daughter? Then I wouldn’t need a wife.”
Jiang Zhi’er froze — then stood up and turned away.
He caught her wrist instantly. “What’s wrong?”
Her eyes reddened.
“Uncle… please don’t joke like that.”
He hadn’t thought the joke would hurt her.
Some children couldn’t tolerate jokes about parents — especially a girl who grew up alone.
“Alright. I was wrong,” he softened. “Can I just be your uncle?”
No.
Not even that.
She wanted more — too much.
So much it scared her.
“Eat,” he said gently, pulling her back beside him. “You haven’t eaten enough.”
“…I’m full.”
Still upset.
Good.
A girl raised by him should have a temper.
He smiled. “Why haven’t you wished me happy birthday?”
She froze.
Then turned, opened her schoolbag, and carefully took out a beautifully wrapped box. She held it to him with both hands, eyes earnest.
“Second Uncle, happy birthday. I hope you find joy every single day.”
He didn’t expect a gift.
He’d never told her his birthday.
“How did you know?”
“Brother Jiayao told me.”
Seeing the brand logo, he finally understood… why she’d been trying so hard to earn money lately.
“Can I open it?”
She nodded.
He untied the ribbon slowly — at least, in her eyes it felt like slow motion. She lifted her chin anxiously.
“I didn’t know what you liked,” she rushed to explain. “I don’t have much money, so I didn’t have many choices. I thought this would be useful…”
He opened the box.
A single cufflink — quietly luxurious in the light.
Diamond inlaid.
From a top brand.
Suddenly, everything clicked.
She had gone to that bar — worked — just to earn money for him.
Among all the lavish gifts he had received—
this one, only this one—
reached his heart.
She was a rare treasure in his life.
His chest tightened.
At his age, with everything he’d experienced, a small gift shouldn’t shake him.
Yet it did.
He remembered that New Year’s Eve, after his father’s death, the little girl had leaned into him and whispered:
“I’m sorry. I’m still too young to help you.”
That moment of warmth—
softened years of quiet loneliness.
Jiang Zhi’er didn’t know what he was thinking.
She just watched him stare at the cufflink, silent for a long while.
“Uncle… do you like it?”
“Yes.”
His voice was low, steady.
“Er’er,” he said, sincere to the very last word,
“This is the best birthday gift I’ve ever received.”