I Met My Crush At My Sister's Wedding - Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Jiang Shucheng thought that Shen Qinghe’s previous offer to treat her to a meal was just a polite gesture. Now that she brought it up again, she must be serious.
Jiang Shucheng’s heart was stirring. She naturally had a good impression of Shen Qinghe and wanted to eat with her, but she had just inwardly decided to keep her distance from Shen Qinghe.
She was extremely conflicted internally…
Shen Qinghe didn’t receive a reply for a long time and grew anxious. She frowned and typed: Is it inconvenient?
Jiang Shucheng hardened her heart and replied: Mhm.
Shen Qinghe froze on the spot, smartphone in hand. The secretary walked into the office to clear the tea and snacks from the table. These snacks were for entertaining the people from Y Company. Everyone was busy talking business, only sipping tea, and none of the small snacks had been touched.
The secretary noticed Shen Qinghe’s expression was off. Holding the tray, she asked concernedly: “Boss Shen, are you feeling unwell?”
Shen Qinghe never showed her vulnerable side in front of subordinates, but at this moment, she was struggling to maintain her composure. Her face was pale, and her voice trembled: “Secretary Chen, tell me, what should I do if my crush is very cold towards me?”
Secretary Chen was surprised that a workaholic like Boss Shen also had a crush. She found it new and interesting. She smiled and asked: “Boss Shen, are you pursuing someone?”
Shen Qinghe dropped her head, radiating an air of utter despair. She let out: “Yes.”
Secretary Chen didn’t know Shen Qinghe’s sexual orientation and chuckled: “Someone as excellent as Boss Shen, as long as you put in the effort, there’s no one you can’t win over. As the saying goes, it’s easy for a woman to pursue a man…”
“Forget it, you can go now.” A line of speechless sweat ran down Shen Qinghe’s forehead.
Secretary Chen’s heart pounded. She didn’t know where her flattery had gone wrong. She tried to compensate: “Boss Shen, you can start by learning your crush’s interests and hobbies, and then cultivate the same hobbies yourself. That way, you’ll have endless topics to talk about. Having common topics is the most important thing for two people to connect.”
Shen Qinghe’s eyes immediately brightened: “What you said makes sense. But right now, I want to ask her out for dinner, and she said it was inconvenient… Do you think she doesn’t like me? Do I still have a chance to cultivate the same hobbies as her?” As she spoke, she became dejected again.
Secretary Chen was seeing this side of Shen Qinghe for the first time, like a girl experiencing first love, with none of the usual imposing aura she commanded in the business world.
“To pursue someone, you need to be persistent. If they say it’s inconvenient, just ask for another time,” Secretary Chen sounded relaxed, like a veteran in the dating game.
“Okay.” Shen Qinghe regained her fighting spirit, laboriously typing on her phone.
Secretary Chen stood by, awaiting good news.
Shen Qinghe: When are you free? I’d like to treat you to dinner again. Please give me a specific time.
Jiang Shucheng, trembling and blushing, typed out a line: I’m sorry, Miss Shen, if I pass the written exam, I will likely start work immediately. I’ll be very busy after starting work, and I don’t know when I’ll be free. Also, I haven’t been feeling well recently and it’s inconvenient to go out. Please excuse me from the dinner invitation.
Shen Qinghe: “…”
From Jiang Shucheng’s message, she summarized the word “Rejection.”
Why is she like this after I showed her the rainbow? Was the rainbow toxic?
“It’s over, it’s over,” Shen Qinghe muttered, her lips pale.
Secretary Chen was worried: “What is it? What did your crush say?”
What could she have said that was so heartbreaking that it made Boss Shen look like she was about to faint?
Shen Qinghe: “She called me Miss Shen.”
Secretary Chen: “…”
“…Is there anything wrong with that?” Secretary Chen blinked and asked.
Shen Qinghe looked up at her, her dark eyes full of disbelief: “Don’t you think that title is too distant? And she rejected me again.”
Oh dear… How could she be rejected twice? Does her crush think she’s a piece of trash?
Secretary Chen pursed her lips awkwardly. Shen Qinghe was staring at her with an exceptionally intense look, a look that seemed to say: Save me.
“She also said she wasn’t feeling well,” Shen Qinghe murmured, her face showing concern.
“Not feeling well? Boss Shen! This is a great opportunity. Many office workers these days have sub-health issues, little ailments here and there. You can invite him to see a traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) doctor together to regulate your health,” Secretary Chen suggested.
So, Jiang Shucheng received a message from Shen Qinghe inviting her to a TCM hospital. Shen Qinghe said she also wasn’t feeling well—she had migraines. She had seen a doctor at the city hospital and taken medicine, but it hadn’t helped.
Jiang Shucheng felt a pang of sympathy. Her discomfort was just an excuse to reject her, but Shen Qinghe was probably genuinely unwell. Right, she’s busy with deals worth tens of millions, and countless details require mental effort. It would be strange if she didn’t get headaches.
Shen Qinghe asked her what was wrong.
Jiang Shucheng thought for a moment and replied: I have menstrual cramps. (Literal translation: “I have period pain,” but context suggests a persistent ailment rather than an immediate one.)
She agreed to Shen Qinghe’s request to go to the TCM hospital together. Her rational side told her to refuse, but she just couldn’t bear it. The thought of Shen Qinghe being tormented by headaches to the point of not sleeping made her heart ache as if it were being squeezed by a hand.
…
The next morning, Shen Qinghe’s car was parked outside Jiang Shucheng’s house.
Jiang Shucheng’s attire was as casual as ever: a white shirt and light blue jeans, with her hair tied in a low ponytail. This time, she was too embarrassed to wear slippers and wore a pair of clean white sneakers.
Jiang Shucheng got into the passenger seat. A faint scent of jasmine drifted to Shen Qinghe’s nose. Shen Qinghe’s cheeks were slightly flushed: “Good morning. This is the breakfast I bought for you.”
She was holding several plastic bags containing soy milk, fried dough sticks (youtiao), sesame balls, buns, dumplings…
Jiang Shucheng was surprised: “That much!”
Is she planning to feed me all that? Is Shen Qinghe feeding a pig?
“I didn’t know what you like, so I bought everything,” Shen Qinghe looked straight at her, her eyes showing a mixture of flattery and longing. Her reluctant gaze was like a loyal puppy looking at its owner.
“I already ate. You can eat whatever you want from these,” Shen Qinghe firmly placed the bags in her hands, turning the steering wheel.
The car window was half-open. A ray of morning sunlight streamed in, casting a gentle warmth on Jiang Shucheng’s earlobe. The heavy rain yesterday had washed away the dust in the air. The trees on the roadside were exceptionally lush, their green leaves gently trembling. The wind played with their hair inside the car.
The TCM hospital they had an appointment with was located in the adjacent city, requiring over an hour’s drive. Shen Qinghe drove slowly, the wheels rolling leisurely on the road, much like the driver’s casual state of mind.
Jiang Shucheng held several plastic bags, completely motionless.
Shen Qinghe glanced at her and asked: “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Hmm?” Jiang Shucheng’s tone was obedient. “In the car? I’m afraid I’ll make a mess in your car.”
Besides, she didn’t have the habit of eating in the car, or even looking at her phone. Every time she rode with her father to school during university breaks, she would just look straight ahead, watching the large patches of clouds in the sky, the flowing traffic, and the changing streetscape, doing nothing else.
Shen Qinghe’s heart melted. She laughed and said: “I don’t treasure this car that much. Hurry up and eat. We might not have time to eat when we get there.” It was a lie to say she didn’t treasure the car, but the person in the passenger seat was more precious than the car.
Shen Qinghe had timed it perfectly so that their number would be called soon after they arrived.
Jiang Shucheng’s dark eyes fell on the abundant breakfast. She picked a fried dough stick (youtiao) and ate it. The crispy youtiao paired with soy milk tasted delicious to her.
Shen Qinghe focused on driving, hearing a series of crunching sounds—Jiang Shucheng biting the youtiao. Although she had already eaten breakfast, Shen Qinghe couldn’t help but swallow.
Jiang Shucheng saw through her craving. She broke off a piece of the youtiao from the uneaten end and offered it to Shen Qinghe’s mouth.
The golden-crisp youtiao emitted the aroma of starch. Jiang Shucheng pinched the youtiao with two slender fingers. Her fingernails were light pink and glossy. Shen Qinghe was intensely moved. She forgot how to bite properly. She clumsily bit the youtiao but accidentally grazed the tender finger…
Jiang Shucheng felt a wetness on her finger and a slight itch from the gentle friction of teeth. That patch of skin quickly heated up, as if burned by the sun.
If she screamed at this moment, Shen Qinghe would probably choke. Jiang Shucheng calmly withdrew her finger from between Shen Qinghe’s teeth, rotated it, and inserted the entire youtiao into her mouth.
Shen Qinghe hastily chewed the youtiao, unable to taste anything. Her curled eyelashes fluttered: “Thank you.”
Jiang Shucheng’s throat was dry. She murmured: “You’re welcome,” and drank her soy milk shyly.
…
They drove cheerfully to the TCM hospital parking lot. Shen Qinghe unbuckled her seatbelt: “We’re here.”
The untouched food was still on Jiang Shucheng’s lap. Shen Qinghe removed it for her, neatly stuffing it into the storage box, then unbuckled her seatbelt, and took the trash from her hand. The whole sequence was smoothly executed.
Shen Qinghe got out of the car and threw the trash into a nearby trash can. Jiang Shucheng, with a slightly blank look due to being meticulously cared for, closed the car door and walked toward her.
Under the clear blue sky, a spring breeze, carrying the tender fragrance of flowers and grass, blew past. Jiang Shucheng’s shirt collar fluttered, and her small face in the wind was tinged with a rosy blush.
Shen Qinghe smiled faintly, beckoning to her: “Let’s go.”
The doctor seeing them was an old TCM practitioner over sixty, tall and thin, with a white, crew-cut hairstyle.
Shen Qinghe’s appointment was after Jiang Shucheng’s. A long queue lined up outside the door. Shen Qinghe stood by the door while Jiang Shucheng sat in front of the old doctor, who took her pulse.
Jiang Shucheng was not menstruating, but she genuinely did have menstrual cramps.
The old doctor took her pulse, his clear eyes looking towards the door. Shen Qinghe watched Jiang Shucheng’s wrist with worry.
“Stick out your tongue and let me see,” the old doctor said, retracting his gaze.
Jiang Shucheng obediently did so. The old doctor looked and said: “Your body has too much cold energy…”
Jiang Shucheng listened attentively to his diagnosis, nodding occasionally.
Shen Qinghe couldn’t hear anything standing by the door. Did she have some kind of serious, unmentionable illness? The old doctor’s voice was quieter than reciting a bank card PIN.
Jiang Shucheng came out holding the prescription slip. Shen Qinghe grabbed her hand and asked: “How is it?”
“He said my body is cold (TCM term for body imbalance), and I need long-term conditioning,” Jiang Shucheng said. “You should go in quickly.” The old doctor was calling the next number.
Body cold… Her body is cold even in such warm weather. Shen Qinghe sat down in front of the old doctor distractedly. The old doctor asked what was wrong, and she, with a vacant look, blurted out: “My body is cold.”
The old doctor took her pulse and was speechless: “Nonsense, body cold.”
Shen Qinghe left the consultation room and went to the restroom. Jiang Shucheng sneaked into the room and asked the old doctor: “Doctor, the Miss Shen who was just here, how serious is her headache? Can it be cured?”
The old doctor was taking the patient’s pulse but still answered her question: “What headache? She has a stomach issue. What’s wrong with you two? Neither of you cares about your own body, only asking about the other’s condition. Are you sisters? Or… enemies? Heh, but judging by the way you look at each other, you don’t look like you’re hoping the other one dies.”