Feverish Spring Night - Chapter 16

In mid-March, the temperature warmed and spring officially arrived in Nancy.
Spring sat on the branches; the curtains in the house were drawn open. A gentle spring breeze blew in, and the gorgeous sunset spread its glow, illuminating the little girl’s beautiful, delicate profile.
Jiang Zhi’er looked at the half-bright, half-dark dusk outside the window and quietly thought to herself: spring has come. Perhaps this year, she should mend the spring in her own heart as well.
At the end of March, the school held its annual English Festival.
Each class needed to perform a program.
Class 2 (1) of Senior Year 2 decided to stage an all-English play, selecting a clip from Snow White.
As expected, the role of Snow White fell to Jiang Zhi’er.
Her English grades were excellent, her speaking skills strong, and most importantly, she looked the part. Her skin was fair enough to glow in the sun. If this wasn’t Snow White, then what was?
Shao Xu lay sprawled on the desk beside her, trying to convince her to participate.
But Jiang Zhi’er strongly resisted.
Just imagining herself wearing a princess dress and performing in front of the entire school made her want to hide.
Yet when Shao Xu asked, “Why don’t you want to act?” she couldn’t answer.
Ever since she was little—under Tang Peiwen and Jiang Chen’s oppression—she had always been the one forgotten. She was used to being ignored. Being the center of attention felt unbearably uncomfortable.
“But Er’er, I feel like you’ve changed lately,” Shao Xu suddenly said.
“How have I changed?”
Shao Xu tilted her head, studying her. “You seem prettier. Is it because you like someone? You were always pretty, but now… you’re just even more beautiful.”
Her appearance hadn’t truly changed—but the feeling she gave others had.
If Jiang Zhi’er had once been a quiet daisy, now she was a rose about to bloom.
She glanced at the mirror on the table. She looked the same.
But suddenly she understood what Shao Xu meant.
It had only been a few months since she left the Jiang family. She hadn’t even grown taller. Her beauty wasn’t a matter of looks alone.
The biggest difference… was that under Cheng Jingwei’s gentle care, her eyes had brightened and her cheeks had filled out.
She was no longer a pitiful orphan living under someone’s roof. She no longer lived cautiously. With love and protection, she had grown stronger—fire burning deep in her pupils.
She remembered her first time drumming on stage at the bar not long ago—lights dimming, music beginning, the spotlight bursting forth as she slammed the drumsticks down. Cheers thundered around her, and her bl00d ignited.
So that’s what Cheng Jingwei meant when he told her, “Little girl, your life is meant to be lived.”
She had left the Jiang family behind.
As he once said, he could be her strongest support.
She no longer had to fear being too outstanding or drawing Jiang Chen’s hostility.
Jiang Chen no longer mattered.
“Xuxu.”
“Hm?”
“…Do you really think I can do it?”
Shao Xu cupped her cheeks, looked into her eyes, and declared dramatically:
“Er’er, you are the most beautiful princess!”
So, from then on, every evening during the final self-study period, Jiang Zhi’er went to the gymnasium to rehearse.
The English teacher personally corrected their pronunciation. Though Jianger’s spoken English was strong, being the lead meant many lines — and exaggerated intonation — which she struggled to master at first.
The teacher corrected a few mistakes and asked her to practice with the original soundtrack.
Jiang Zhi’er was stubborn — once she decided something, she put her whole heart into it.
Including the people she cared for.
So, she carried her MP3 everywhere, listening to the lines again and again.
After school that day, she climbed into the car with her headphones still in — not noticing the person beside her until he spoke:
“What are you listening to?”
She turned sharply.
Cheng Jingwei.
Her eyes brightened. “Second Uncle? Why are you here?”
“I was meeting a business partner at a teahouse nearby and decided to stop by.”
He brushed a stray strand of hair away, then took one earbud and placed it into his ear.
He leaned in slightly — his hair less styled than usual, soft strands falling gently over his forehead, giving him a lazy elegance.
They were only a fist’s distance apart.
The Queen’s line from the story echoed in the earphones:
If someone is more beautiful than me… I will kill her.
Cheng Jingwei raised his brow. “Snow White?”
A simple fairy tale — yet spoken in his low, magnetic voice, the four words seemed to carry something else… mature charm slipping straight into her ears.
Princess.
No matter how much Shao Xu praised her, it meant nothing compared to his saying those words.
She pursed her lips and hummed in acknowledgment.
He smiled. “You’re almost an adult, and you’re still listening to fairy tales?”
“What— No! It’s for the English Festival. We’re performing a stage play.”
“You’re Snow White?”
“…Yes.”
“And who’s playing the prince?”
“…A boy in my class?”
“Will he kiss you to wake you up?”
She froze.
The script wasn’t finalized yet. She hadn’t even thought about that part. She stammered,
“No! It— it’s just camera blocking… There won’t be any real contact!”
He clicked his tongue, clearly displeased.
“You high-schoolers — such risqué performances?”
“…What’s risqué about it?!”
She protested, “Weren’t you just teasing me for listening to Snow White?”
Teasing?
He raised a brow, amused at being accused so bluntly.
She fiddled with her MP3 volume — up and down — trying to cover her embarrassment. “You said I wasn’t old-fashioned… that I shouldn’t be afraid of liking someone…”
He chuckled softly.
She was the only one who dared talk to him like that.
His smile made her curl away, shrinking into her seat, chin buried into her uniform collar.
“Then let me correct you.” His voice dropped slightly. “An old-fashioned person like me… won’t mind it anymore.”
Her eyes widened.
She knew it was impossible.
But his casual words made her heart erupt with possibilities.
“…Why?”
He ruffled her hair gently.
“Because our princess shouldn’t be so easy for those boys to steal away.”
Her eyelashes fluttered wildly — like a butterfly ready to take flight.
I’m a princess.
Her heart dropped, then soared, beating wildly out of control.
At that moment, his phone rang.
He returned the earbud and answered.
His scent — clean cedarwood with a faint smokiness — surrounded her. It slipped into her lungs, burning, making her throat dry.
She pressed her hand over her heart — but no use.
It would not calm down.
—
After dinner, they worked together in the study — he on contracts, she on homework, headphones in.
When he finally looked up, she was practicing lines again — pink lips moving silently.
“Still not done memorizing?” he asked.
She removed her headphones. “I finished, but the teacher says my pronunciation needs more practice.”
He beckoned. “Come here.”
Confused, she pulled her chair beside him.
“I’ll teach you.”
“…Ah.”
He took one earbud again — then suddenly gripped her chair and pulled her closer.
The scraping of the chair legs echoed sharply.
He had shed his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up, white shirt stretching over solid muscle. The clean scent of wood and faint tobacco enveloped her.
He listened, then repeated the line.
Perfect British accent — every syllable elegant.
Her ears burned with heat.
She rehearsed in her mind first before speaking aloud, careful and slow.
“Not bad,” he said — smiling slightly.
He praised, then patiently corrected each tiny mistake.
It was… unprecedented.
He had intended only to repay an old kindness. But at some point, she had slipped quietly into his life.
Forty minutes passed.
“Have you ever thought about studying abroad?” he asked suddenly.
She blinked. “Study abroad?”
She had never even imagined it.
Her father only cared about marrying her off well and early — studying abroad had never been an option.
He softened his voice.
“No rush. Even if you do, finish your undergraduate degree in China first. Just keep the thought… for the future.”
“If I go abroad…, will I not see you much?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
He paused.
“If you go to university in another city, you won’t see me often anyway.”
“Then I’ll go to Nancy University.”
“Jiayao is desperate to escape his parents’ control. Why do you want to stay here?”
Perhaps the headphones dulled her fear. She lowered her head, playing with the cord.
“Because… I don’t want to be apart from you.”
He froze.
The tape stopped. Silence fell.
She could hear her own heartbeat again.
“I want to stay with you,” she whispered. “I just thought… You might be lonely sometimes.”
He stared at her — lost for a moment.
Lonely?
He didn’t even know what that felt like anymore.
He simply ruffled her hair and sent her to bed as the night grew late.
At the doorway, she stopped.
“Uncle… will you come to the performance next Tuesday night?”
He had a business reception scheduled… but it could wait.
“I’ll definitely come,” he promised.
With that assurance, she practiced harder than ever.
She wanted him to see her shining.
To see that she could be excellent.
That maybe… the distance between them wasn’t so impossible.
—
Final rehearsal — costume change.
The Snow White gown fit perfectly: yellow satin skirt, blue bodice, and a red bow atop her head. Her pale skin and delicate features made her look like a princess straight from a fairy tale.
Someone snapped a photo and posted it to the school forum.
It exploded with comments:
“Oh my god, too beautiful!!!”
“Tiny face and huge eyes — a masterpiece of Nüwa!”
“Princess has a figure too?! Tiny waist!”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“Don’t even try — boys have been giving her love letters and milk tea every day. She rejects them all.”
“Isn’t she with Cheng Jiayao?”
“Nope — rumors. But the heir of the Cheng family is her guardian — they must be close…”
Before, Jiang Zhi’er had beauty without presence — and Jiang Chen made sure she stayed hidden.
But now… the whole school saw her.
—
Cheng Jiayao finally showed up — rarely seen on campus — holding a huge LED sign.
She was in full makeup when he barged into the dressing room.
He grinned and switched it on.
Eight enormous flashing characters:
Zhi’er Zhi’er — Born to be a Princess!
“…Turn it off!!” she hissed.
“No. Why should I?”
“You’re so childish!”
“What? Don’t like it? Then how about—this one?”
He clicked it again:
Princess Allure — It’s You!
…Psychopath.
She covered her burning face with her hands.
Shao Xu walked in with milk tea — nearly choking from laughter.
“Lots of parents already here,” she said.
Zhi’er’s heart suddenly clenched.
“Did you see my Second Uncle?”
“No… but his seat card is there. He’ll definitely come.”
Zhi’er nodded, calming herself. She closed her eyes and recited her lines again.
—
Meanwhile…
The Cheng Group was in crisis.
Security breach. Data hacks. Stock fluctuations.
Coordinated. Ruthless.
As Cheng Jingwei headed for the elevator — preparing to go to the school — Xu Yin rushed over.
“Mr. Cheng — emergency at the California branch. Customer privacy breach. Public opinion and stock market volatility…”
Someone was pulling strings.
He issued calm, rapid-fire orders:
“Overseas Department and Tech — emergency meeting. PR — announcement in thirty minutes.”
Late into the night, the building lights burned.
The first arrow had been fired.
He stood alone before the window — straight-backed, but surrounded by a quiet solitude.
A cigarette lit between his fingers — first in a long time.
Xu Yin returned with updates.
“Book me on tonight’s flight,” Cheng Jingwei ordered.
As Xu Yin was about to leave, Cheng Jingwei’s voice shifted.
“Tomorrow morning’s flight.”
“Understood.”
“And the pieces from the Hong Kong auction house—have they arrived yet?”
Xu Yin paused, momentarily caught off guard.
When he had been instructed to acquire the painting, he assumed it was simply a gesture to maintain relations. But upon seeing the artist—Shu Yu—and later researching her, he learned she was a notable contemporary painter, especially known for her lotus landscapes. Tragically, she had died young, and the handful of works she left behind had become highly sought after.
Shu Yu wasn’t a household name, but her landscapes carried a unique charm. Collectors admired them, and they often sold for millions.
Still, if one intended to give a prestigious gift, artists like Zhang Daqian or Wu Guanzhong would have been the obvious choice. Xu Yin couldn’t begin to guess the purpose behind gifting Shu Yu’s Lotus, nor why Cheng Jingwei would bring it up now, of all times.
“It arrived this afternoon,” Xu Yin answered carefully. “It was such short notice that I forgot to report it.”
Cheng Jingwei nodded lightly. “Have it packed. Bring it to me.”
—
When the host announced the performance…
Jiang Zhi’er still didn’t see him.
Under the bright spotlight — cheers surrounding her — she scanned the audience.
Cheng Jiayao waved his ridiculous sign.
But the seat labeled “Cheng Jingwei” remained empty.
She had worked so hard…
All to shine before him.
Yet to him, would it all seem like childish play? The English Festival was over. Amidst the hustle and bustle, Jiang Zhier returned home alone.
Dinner was still steaming hot on the table, but she had no appetite. She went straight to her room and collapsed onto the bed, completely dejected.
The night-light that Cheng Jingwei had prepared for her was still glowing faithfully.
That small light had been the beginning of every tender feeling in her heart.
But perhaps the distance between them was simply too great. Even if she mustered the courage to confess to Cheng Jingwei face-to-face, he would probably just think she was being childish and wouldn’t take her feelings seriously.
But… but—
She really, really liked him.
It was the first time the little girl had ever felt this way, and she had no idea how to hide it or control it. She could only let that feeling take root, grow, and flourish wildly inside her.
Jiang Zhier buried her face in the pillow; hot tears quickly soaked into the cool silk fabric.
Exhaustion washed over her, and she began to drift into sleep.
Just as she was slipping into a hazy, heartbroken dream, she heard the sound of the door opening.
Jiang Zhier blinked awake, recognizing the familiar sound of a man returning home, followed by the steady approach of his footsteps.
He was coming toward her room.
She instinctively pulled the quilt over her head, trying to hide her tear-stained face.
Her eyes were still red and her lashes damp. She didn’t want Cheng Jingwei to see her like this.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
She curled up into the blankets, holding her breath.
The door slowly opened.
Cheng Jingwei stepped inside, slowing his pace. He always respected boundaries and never intruded—but tonight, seeing the untouched food on the table and knowing she hadn’t eaten a bite, he wondered if she might be unwell.
He noticed a small lump beneath the quilt, and from the side of the bed, a bare foot peeked out—pale-skinned, with neatly rounded toes, the sole facing up.
One glance told him exactly what kind of awkward posture she was curled into beneath the covers—certainly not a natural sleeping position.
She wasn’t sleeping. She was upset… because he had broken their promise.
Cheng Jingwei sat down at the edge of the bed.
Hidden in the darkness of the quilt, Jiang Zhier felt the mattress sink under his weight. Her heart tightened in panic, and she quickly pulled her exposed foot back under the blanket.
The movement was obvious—he saw everything.
He couldn’t help the small curve that tugged at his lips.
“Er’er,” he called softly.
No response.
“Are you asleep?”
Still nothing.
He sighed quietly, half-helpless, half-amused.
“Then who am I supposed to give this apology gift to?”
The quilt rustled.
In the quiet of the night, the dim night-light cast a warm glow through the room. The soft white light from the hallway spilled in through the gap in the door, illuminating half of the man’s face.
Three more seconds passed.
Finally, like a small cocoon unraveling, a little head popped out from the quilt—hair messy, eyes red, nose pink. She sniffled, aggrieved, and whispered:
“…What apology gift?”