Feverish Spring Night - Chapter 22

The waiter didn’t say anything more. “Sorry, I’ll recalculate your bill.”
In truth, Cheng Jingwei’s appearance could easily obscure his age.
His features were deep yet youthful, and his skin carried the same clarity of youth. Though he regularly exercised and spent time outdoors, there were no signs of sun or wind on him. Only the quiet gravitas born of countless experiences revealed his maturity — the calm steadiness of a man who had lived much and learned more.
Cheng Jingwei didn’t interrupt, allowing the misunderstanding to unfold naturally.
After the waiter recalculated the bill, he paid with his phone.
They took their iced drinks and stepped out of the shop. The customers queuing behind them cast lingering, curious glances their way.
Jiang Zhier began to regret it a little.
Even the iced strawberry milkshake in her hand suddenly felt hot — as if it were burning her fingertips.
“Are you a couple?” Cheng Jingwei asked casually.
At that moment, condensation dripped down the cup, and Jiang Zhier’s hand slipped. The drink nearly fell, but Cheng Jingwei caught it in time.
The man seemed faintly amused by her reaction. “What are you afraid of now?” he teased.
“I… what am I afraid of…” Jiang Zhier murmured weakly, looking away. “It was half price. Of course, I wanted to save money.”
Cheng Jingwei chuckled, nodding as if in full agreement. His laughter was low and unhurried — indulgent, almost doting — as if he could believe any excuse she came up with, no matter how implausible.
Jiang Zhier’s face grew even hotter.
Really now…
Saving money for Cheng Jingwei — who would believe that?
The man smiled. “Thank you, Er’er, for saving me money.”
“…”
—
That Friday evening, Cheng Jingwei had just finished a meeting on overseas market expansion when Xu Yin came in to report that President Xu had arrived.
Cheng Jingwei pushed open the office door. “Why are you here?”
Xu Zhiyan was drinking tea — and not just any tea, but Cheng Jingwei’s finest. Its fragrance lingered faintly in the air. Every time he visited, he’d have his assistant brew a cup, savor it, and usually take some home with him.
“I was bored,” Xu Zhiyan said, setting down his cup. “So, I came to drag you out for dinner.”
Cheng Jingwei raised an eyebrow. “Where’s Jiang Yi?”
Jiang Yi was Xu Zhiyan’s girlfriend.
“She’s abroad, attending an exhibition.” Xu Zhiyan leaned back comfortably. “What about your little one? Is she out of school yet? Should we invite her to join us? I know a new restaurant that’s pretty good.”
“Final exams are coming up. She has tutoring tonight.”
“Tsk.” Xu Zhiyan shook his head, smirking. “You really are raising a daughter.”
Cheng Jingwei smiled faintly. He’d originally planned to stay late and finish some work, but decided he could go home after dinner and work overtime then.
Xu Zhiyan loved Mexican food, so they went to a newly opened restaurant run by a Mexican couple. The decor was richly authentic, and the food looked just as promising.
As the youngest son of his family — with neither the burden nor the ambition to inherit — Xu Zhiyan lived far more leisurely than Cheng Jingwei. Beyond managing a few peripheral family businesses, his greatest pleasure was exploring cuisines from around the world. It wasn’t unusual for him to take a private jet across continents in the middle of the night just to try a meal.
The two sat by a window in a quiet corner.
Xu Zhiyan ordered several signature dishes and a bottle of tequila, served with Kalamata olive sauce and Brie cheese.
He poured Cheng Jingwei a glass and asked casually, “Your older brother’s already gone abroad?”
“Yes.”
“How’s your nephew doing lately?”
Cheng Jingwei shook his head slightly. “Cheng Gan didn’t tell Jiayao the real reason for leaving the country. But with how things have unfolded, he’s probably guessed.”
“Aren’t you worried he’ll resent you for it — that it might cause trouble down the line?”
Cheng Jingwei smiled faintly. “Father and son are quite different. Jiayao may seem rebellious on the surface, but deep down he’s a good kid.”
Kind — and able to tell right from wrong.
If Cheng Jingwei hadn’t seen that in him, he wouldn’t have treated Jiayao so well all these years.
Nor would he have let Cheng Gan go — for Jiayao’s sake.
Xu Zhiyan swirled his drink. “Well, it’s a blessing in disguise. That reshuffling of yours cleared out most of the old deadweight in the company. So, does that mean no one’s pressuring you to get married anymore? No one’s scheming to introduce you to anyone?”
Cheng Jingwei took a sip of his wine and cast him a sideways glance.
“Why? Are you trying to introduce someone?”
“Just curious,” Xu Zhiyan said, grinning. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”
“No.”
“Not planning to get married at all?”
Cheng Jingwei raised an eyebrow. “Why are you suddenly so interested in my marital plans tonight?”
“Because you’re different from me, brother,” Xu Zhiyan said, leaning forward. “You’re the heir. If you don’t get married, who are you going to hand Cheng Zhen over to? Even if your brother has a successor, it’ll all come back to you eventually.”
Xu Zhiyan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “To be honest, I do have a good candidate. My girlfriend’s known her for years, and she’s about to finish her master’s degree and return to China.”
Cheng Jingwei smiled casually. “Didn’t you just say you wouldn’t dare try to put anyone under my nose again?”
“Was that scheming?” Xu Zhiyan slammed his hand on the table. “I was advising you—for the sake of my brother’s lifelong happiness!”
He refused calmly. “Never mind.”
“I heard from your assistant that you’re planning to expand into overseas markets. The person I’m talking about happens to be the only daughter of Jingshen International Capital.”
Cheng Jingwei’s brows furrowed slightly.
Jingshen International Capital was the largest equity investment firm in China—a giant in the venture capital world, involved in countless sectors and boasting extensive overseas connections. Coincidentally, it had just been mentioned in that afternoon’s meeting: their next strategic goal was to secure a partnership with Jingshen International at all costs.
Xu Zhiyan knew him too well. Only business could truly catch his interest.
“What’s her name?”
“Shen Mihai.”
Cheng Jingwei picked up his wine glass and lightly clinked it against Xu Zhiyan’s. “When Miss Shen graduates and returns to China, I’d appreciate it if Mr. Xu could help make some arrangements.”
Xu Zhiyan smiled, but Cheng Jingwei quickly added, “As a business partner, not a marriage partner.”
Xu Zhiyan blinked. “Why?”
He genuinely didn’t understand.
In his mind, marriage was inevitable for Cheng Jingwei—and Jingwei knew it too. He was a man who thrived on control and power, someone who would never willingly hand the company to anyone else. Since he wasn’t the type to fall in love easily, marriage would likely be a pragmatic arrangement—a union between equals, based on mutual benefit and quiet respect, just like most in their circle.
To him, Shen Mihai and Cheng Jingwei were a perfect match.
“Jingshen International’s only daughter—beautiful, intelligent, emotionally astute, capable, educated abroad—Awei, the two of you are made for each other!”
Cheng Jingwei leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms, his gaze sharp. “You’re acting strange today.”
“…”
“You came to my office just to have dinner, and now you’re trying to set me up with Miss Shen? You’re the one who swore off marriage!”
Xu Zhiyan coughed and waved a hand. “Anyway, it’s a secret. You’ll understand once you meet her—she’s your perfect match.”
…
Cheng Jingwei didn’t think much of it.
He believed he would eventually get married—to someone of equal standing, someone who could both restrain and support him. It would be a powerful alliance, one that maintained appearances if not affection. But marriage, in his plans, wasn’t something that would happen before thirty. He had no intention of tying himself to another family too early.
Xu Zhiyan, however, was unusually persistent this time.
The following Thursday, he texted: “Shen Mihai’s returning to China today. I’ve arranged for you two to meet tomorrow night.”
Cheng Jingwei replied simply: “Okay.”
It was just a business meeting, not a matchmaking dinner.
On Friday evening, Cheng Jingwei arrived as scheduled.
He didn’t know if Xu Zhiyan or Shen Mihai had chosen the location—it was a riverside restaurant beside a lavender field on the city’s outskirts, elegant and perfumed with a faint floral scent. It was, unmistakably, a date spot.
Out of courtesy, Cheng Jingwei arrived half an hour early and took his seat at a table with the best view of the flowers.
When the waiter came to take his order, Shen Mihai hadn’t arrived yet, so he simply asked for water.
A gentle early-summer breeze drifted by. The sunset spilled warm orange light across the sky. Leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, Cheng Jingwei’s figure was framed by the glow—serene, refined, and distant, like a man in a painting.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from Jiang Zhier.
Er’er: Second Uncle, I have an extra hour of tutoring today. I’ll come home later.
With finals approaching, she’d been going to physics tutoring at least three times a week.
Cheng Jingwei replied, “Okay,” just as another message came through— “I’ve arrived.”
He looked up.
A woman was walking up the wooden steps not far away. Her waist-length black hair shimmered under the sunlight like dark waves. She was slim, dressed in a black Dior dress embroidered with butterflies from the latest season, nude Valentino heels, and a single sapphire pendant that glinted softly at her throat—graceful, poised, and polished.
Cheng Jingwei stood as she approached. Shen Mihai smiled and raised a hand in greeting.
“Miss Shen, a pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending his hand.
“Mr. Cheng, I’ve heard so much about you,” she replied with a practiced smile, setting down her designer bag and smoothing her hair to one side.
When the waiter returned, Cheng Jingwei told him he had no dietary restrictions and let Shen Mihai order for both of them.
Darkness fell quickly. The sun disappeared behind the horizon, and soft moonlight illuminated the lavender fields. Tiny lights twinkled among the blooms like fireflies, drawing delighted gasps from nearby diners who hurried to take photos.
Shen Mihai leaned back in her chair, swirling a glass of red wine between slender fingers. Her eyes skimmed the flowers only briefly before looking away, her expression calm and unreadable.
“Seems we chose the wrong place,” Cheng Jingwei said.
“No, the food here’s delicious.” She smiled. “It’s not easy to find Chinese food like this abroad.”
“I forgot—Miss Shen studied art in France. You must’ve seen the lavender fields in Provence. These probably don’t impress you much.”
“The Valensole Plateau is breathtaking,” she admitted. “Has Mr. Cheng been there?”
He shook his head.
“Then someday, when you have time, I’ll be your tour guide,” she offered lightly. “I’ll take you to the south of France.”
“Miss Shen, after living in France for six years, I should be the one honored to have your guidance.”
She tilted her head, studying him. Then she chuckled softly, finishing her wine. “When Xu Zhiyan introduced you, he said you were a bookworm in school and a workaholic afterward. I thought you’d be dull and rigid.”
Her tone shifted—less formal now, more teasing.
Cheng Jingwei met her gaze evenly, a hint of sharpness behind his glasses.
“What do you think now, Miss Shen?”
“Very charming. Very handsome. Very interesting. I imagine most women would fall for you easily.” She smiled. “So, may I call you Awei? I heard Xu Zhiyan use it. It sounds more… intimate.”
Cheng Jingwei merely shrugged. “If you like.”
“But Awei,” she said playfully, “it’s a pity—you don’t seem to have feelings for me.”
“Miss Shen’s charm is obvious to anyone.”
“But I’m not your type, am I?” Her tone remained light, free of disappointment. Resting her chin on her hand, she added, “Then why did you agree to meet me? After all, you don’t seem like a man who enjoys dating.”
Shen Mihai was sharper than he’d expected.
He did like working with sharp people.
“I heard Jingshen International invested in Symantec Europe when it was founded,” he said. “Do you know Olivier?”
“My father knows him. I don’t, but I’m close with his son, Louis—the current operator of Symantec.”
Cheng Jingwei’s brows lifted slightly.
Before he could speak, Shen Mihai raised her glass, leaning forward with a smile. “Let me treat you both another day. I’ll make the introduction.”
“Thank you,” he said simply, finishing his drink.
When dinner ended, many guests went to take pictures among the lavender, but Shen Mihai clearly wasn’t interested. She stood to leave.
Their drivers were both waiting in the underground garage.
Still adjusting to switching languages after returning to China, Shen Mihai accidentally called her driver “uncle,” then told him to head home and pick her up at eight the next morning.
Cheng Jingwei paused.
As expected, she turned and said with a smile, “Awei, could I trouble your driver to take me home?”
“Of course.”
He opened the car door for her. “Where to, Miss Shen?”
“Jingshen Garden,” she said. Then, teasingly, “Will you keep calling me Miss Shen?”
Cheng Jingwei glanced sideways but said nothing.
He truly did enjoy working with intelligent people—but Miss Shen, whether from years abroad or simply her nature, lacked a sense of boundaries.
Cheng Jingwei was slow to warm up by temperament—naturally distant. In his mind, everyone existed within their own invisible grid; crossing those lines only invited his displeasure.
Shen Mihai seemed completely unaware of this aloofness. She smiled. “I thought we were already friends.”
“Miss Shen has been a great help. Of course, she’s my friend.”
Still that same polite, watertight, utterly uninteresting response.
Shen Mihai only shrugged, letting it go.
Soon, however, she realized they weren’t taking the shortest route to Jingshen Garden. “Where are we going?”
“My child’s tutoring class is ending soon. I’m stopping by to pick her up. It’ll just take five minutes. Is Miss Shen in a hurry?”
“No, not at all—but I didn’t know you had younger siblings.” She blinked, then smiled. “Ah, or is it your nephew?”
“No,” he said mildly. “My girl.”
That simple phrase—my family—It
was easy to miss, but not to misunderstand.
Shen Mihai looked up, curiosity flickering in her eyes.
Does the Cheng family have children? Still in school?
Could it be a second-generation heir hidden from the public eye? But if that were true, would Cheng Jingwei really? So… could it be Old Master Cheng’s illegitimate son?
But that couldn’t be right—Cheng Jingwei wouldn’t personally pick him up from class.
In Shen Mihai’s eyes, Cheng Jingwei was an ideal marriage prospect.
Smart, handsome, with an impeccable pedigree—his genes alone were worth envying. As the undisputed head of the Cheng Zhen Group, he had no in-laws to deal with: an orphan, with his only brother forced abroad, and no mother-in-law or daughter-in-law drama to worry about.
Perfect in every way.
However, things would be different if he really had a sister.
Rich heiresses were rarely easy to handle. Encountering an unpleasant one was enough to give her a headache.
Still, since this might involve a Cheng family secret, Shen Mihai didn’t press the issue. Instead, she quietly messaged Xu Zhiyan’s girlfriend to inquire.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a residential building.
It was a modest, aging apartment complex—commonplace in this city, far removed from their world.
No rich young lady would ever choose to live here, Shen Mihai thought.
“Are there tutoring classes here?” she asked.
“The teacher lives here,” Cheng Jingwei replied.
A moment later, he made a quick phone call, saying softly, “I’ve arrived.” Then he smiled—a faint, genuine curve of his lips, the first she’d seen that evening—and added a quiet “Mm.”
At that same moment, Shen Mihai’s phone vibrated.
It was a reply from Jiang Yi.
Jiang Yi: “Oh, the Cheng family hasn’t had a single girl in generations. I think it’s Jiang Zhier from the Jiang family. Old Madam Jiang passed away recently, and Cheng Jingwei took her in.”
Shen Mihai: “???”
Shen Mihai: “Wait, isn’t that basically like a man raising someone else’s daughter?”
Jiang Yi: “She’s nearly an adult, about to go to university. You’ll hardly see her around. Plus, I heard from Zhiyan that she’s well-behaved and easy to get along with. Isn’t that much better than dealing with a difficult sister-in-law?”
“…”
Well, that was true.
In these wealthy circles, few were only children. Rivalries and infighting were inevitable. A clean and efficient network like Cheng Jingwei’s was truly rare.
Jiang Zhier hadn’t expected Cheng Jingwei to pick her up today.
She had planned to finish one last difficult problem in her teacher’s office before leaving, but after his call, she quickly packed her things and ran downstairs.
Her hurried footsteps and bouncing ponytail betrayed her excitement.
She ran without stopping, breathless by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs. Then she saw the familiar car waiting.
A smile spread across her face as she walked quickly over, opened the car door, and her eyes brightened with laughter.
“Second Uncle!”
But her smile froze.
Her gaze landed on the unfamiliar woman in the back seat.
She was beautiful—strikingly so. Mature, elegant, radiant.
Shen Mihai tilted her head, smiling as she greeted her. “Hello, little one.”
Her black hair cascaded over one shoulder, silver tassel earrings swaying gently against it.
Jiang Zhier stood speechless, momentarily stunned.
She turned her gaze toward Cheng Jingwei, silently begging for an explanation—though she had no right to demand one.
Cheng Jingwei naturally took her schoolbag and said, “Call her ‘Sister.’”
Jiang Zhier’s lips trembled. A sudden sting filled her nose. Lowering her head, she whispered, “Sister.”
In the quiet car, the two women sat side by side.
Jiang Zhier understood what this meant.
They had probably just finished their date.
And she—she had no right to ask, no right to be upset, no right to be angry.
The car continued toward Jingshen Garden.
On the way, Cheng Jingwei asked gently, “Are you tired?”
She shook her head.
He looked down at her, his voice soft despite the wound he’d just inflicted. “You look very tired.”
“I’m just a little sleepy,” Jiang Zhier murmured, leaning back against the seat, turning toward the window. “I want to rest for a while.”
“Alright.”
She fell silent.
Her mind was a tangle of thoughts—chaotic, painful, uncertain.
Meanwhile, Cheng Jingwei and Shen Mihai spoke quietly beside her. Mostly about work, but sometimes there was laughter—light and effortless.
They seemed to get along well.
Jiang Zhier tried to convince herself: They’re just business partners. Nothing more.
But this was the first time she’d ever seen another woman in his car—on a Friday night, no less.
She couldn’t fool herself. She couldn’t numb herself.
Tears gathered behind her tightly shut eyelids.
She wanted so badly to tell him, I like you.
Not as a niece.
But as a girl who liked a man.
From the moment you came for me at Grandma’s funeral.
From the moment you draped your suit jacket over my shoulders.
From the moment you gave me that nightlight.
But no.
There was an eleven-year gap between them.
No.
How could she say it now—in front of this beautiful, mature woman who suited him so perfectly?
She couldn’t even ask, “Is she your blind date? Is she… your future wife?”
Because if the answer was yes—
Then she’d have to give up completely.
Jiang Zhier thought bitterly: her age was her original sin.
That unchangeable eleven-year gap stood like an invisible wall.
He would always be ahead of her, and no matter how hard she tried to catch up, she would never stand beside him as an equal.
Jingshen Garden was in full bloom—jasmine, roses, lisianthus, orchids. It looked less like a residence and more like an art garden.
Shen Mihai got out of the car and said her goodbyes.
Jiang Zhier bit her lip, summoning what little courage she had left. She wanted—just once—to ask Cheng Jingwei what his relationship with this woman really was.
“Second Uncle…” she began softly.
Before she could continue, Shen Mihai leaned against the open window with a smile. “Awei.”
Jiang Zhier froze. She didn’t know whether Cheng Jingwei had heard her call, but she saw him turn to Shen Mihai.
“Can I invite you to lunch tomorrow?” Shen Mihai asked. “We can discuss the collaboration with Symantec.”
“Of course,” Cheng Jingwei replied.
Shen Mihai smiled, her eyes curving in amusement—charming, confident, dangerously alluring. “But only if you’ll come as my future husband.”
Cheng Jingwei looked up, silent.
He hadn’t expected her to be so open—or so bold.
“My daddy always told me, ‘Don’t let good things go to outsiders.’ I’m introducing Louis to you so easily—you can’t let my daddy scold me for it.” Her tone was teasing, almost coquettish.
On the other side of the car, Jiang Zhier’s fingers clenched in her lap.
Before she could even find the courage to speak, Shen Mihai had already confessed—openly, unabashedly.
She didn’t dare look at Cheng Jingwei. Didn’t dare hear his answer.
Her heart—so full of hope and devotion—plummeted into a dark abyss.
She was too naive. Too childish. Too cowardly.
Too small.
Cheng Jingwei said nothing.
Shen Mihai didn’t need him to. His silence was enough.
She smiled, flicked her fingertips lightly in farewell, and turned away, her heels clicking against the pavement.
When the elevator doors finally closed behind her, the driver asked, “Mr. Cheng?”
“Home,” Cheng Jingwei said quietly.

Jiang Zhier kept her eyes on the window, her lips pressed together.
She didn’t ask anything.
Tears welled again, but she shut her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip to keep from making a sound.
Cheng Jingwei assumed she was asleep and didn’t speak again.
The car was silent until they reached the underground garage.
“Er’er,” he said softly.
Jiang Zhier didn’t respond. She didn’t dare.
If she opened her mouth, he would hear her tears.
So, she kept pretending.
Cheng Jingwei didn’t call again. He simply got out, walked to her side, and gently lifted her into his arms—one arm behind her back, the other beneath her knees.
Jiang Zhier buried her face against his chest, her tears soaking through his suit.
His familiar woody scent wrapped around her, calming her for a brief, fragile moment.
But soon, she smelled another fragrance—a faint floral note, light and sensual, mingling with his.
Shen Mihai’s perfume.
It was like a quiet declaration of possession.
Her fingers tightened against his chest before she slowly let go.
He carried her to the bedroom, took off her shoes, and pulled the blanket over her.
Before leaving, he brushed her hair gently aside, turned on the bedside lamp, switched off the main light, and stepped out.
In the dim glow, Jiang Zhier finally opened her eyes.
Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, soaking into the pillow.
She stared at the nightlight—the very lamp that had started it all.
Her affection for Cheng Jingwei had been born from that light.
And now—
Cheng Jingwei…
Should I finally give up on my feelings for you, Second Uncle?