My Ex Who Dumped Me Comes to Hook Me Up Every Day - Chapter 16

At this late hour, any call was likely urgent work-related. Jin Zhou answered without hesitation.

The line connected, but no sound came from the other end.

“Hello, this is Jin Zhou,” she said politely. “What can I do for you?”

The breathing on the other end grew slightly heavier, but the person remained silent.

Jin Zhou frowned, suspecting it was a scam call. She was about to hang up when a familiar voice came through the receiver.

“Jin Zhou.”

Even distorted by the audio transmission, even in just two words, Jin Zhou instantly recognized Jiang Yuhuai’s unique voice.

It was like mountain spring water cascading through a forest—clear and pure, yet carrying a cold, detached chill.

She paused, then spoke in a professional tone, “It’s late, Dr. Jiang. What can I do for you?”

Jiang Yuhuai fell silent, leaving only the sound of her breathing, mixed with the night wind, in the receiver.

Listening closely, Jin Zhou could faintly hear music in the background.

Is she… at a bar?

When Jiang Yuhuai remained silent, Jin Zhou ended the conversation. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up now.”

“Wait…” Jiang Yuhuai blurted out urgently, but it was clear she hadn’t thought through what she wanted to say. After a long pause, she finally whispered, “I’m drunk.”

Jin Zhou replied casually, “Oh.”

It was indeed late, but whether her ex-girlfriend was at a bar or anywhere else was none of her concern.

Jiang Yuhuai added, “I’m at a bar.”

There was a subtle hint of probing in her voice, which Jin Zhou found amusing.

“Really? Have fun.”

She hung up without hesitation.

Not taking the unexpected call too seriously, Jin Zhou took a sip of warm water and prepared to go to bed as usual.

But the phone rang again.

She picked up her phone and glanced at the number on the screen:

135xxxx4008

It was the same number as before—undoubtedly Jiang Yuhuai again.

If she had known it was Jiang Yuhuai, Jin Zhou would never have answered the call. But since it wasn’t her usual number, it had caught her off guard.

Jin Zhou frowned, instinctively wondering why Jiang Yuhuai was calling from this number.

It was only after reacting that Jin Zhou remembered she had blocked Jiang Yuhuai’s number.

The phone continued to ring tirelessly. Jin Zhou lowered her gaze, her mind drifting back to the past at this inopportune moment.

During those unbearable days after their separation, Jin Zhou often tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Perhaps it was the overwhelming longing she couldn’t suppress, or perhaps the stark contrast between happiness and despair was too jarring.

She always believed there was still room for reconciliation, that she and Jiang Yuhuai hadn’t reached a point of no return.

This conviction reached its peak when she landed in France.

Despite being burdened with practical matters like phone cards, university enrollment procedures, and apartment hunting, as she stood beneath the Eiffel Tower, surrounded by strangers of different skin tones and languages, and listening to melancholic melodies, her mind uncontrollably conjured Jiang Yuhuai’s face.

She remembered Jiang Yuhuai smiling as she spoke to her.

She remembered the faint, distinctive scent that clung to Jiang Yuhuai’s clothes.

Clutching her phone tightly, Jin Zhou silently recited the familiar string of digits, desperately hoping the phone would suddenly ring, hoping to see that familiar number flash across the screen one more time.

But Jiang Yuhuai was resolute.

When she said she would leave, she vanished completely, like smoke in the wind, never sending another message.

If only…

This hypothetical was meaningless, because there were no ifs.

Jin Zhou scoffed.

She pressed the answer button.

As usual, silence greeted her from the other end.

“It’s late, Jiang Yuhuai,” Jin Zhou said, her voice flat, as if stating an objective fact.

“I’m sorry to disturb your rest,” Jiang Yuhuai replied, her voice deliberately softened, as if speaking to someone half-asleep.

Though it meant nothing, one doesn’t strike a smiling face, even if it belongs to one’s ex-girlfriend.

Jin Zhou asked calmly, “What do you really want?”

“You…” Jiang Yuhuai paused. “Could you come pick me up?”

Jin Zhou replied without hesitation, “No.”

“Jin Zhou…”

“It’s too late, and I’m a little scared being alone.”

Jiang Yuhuai rarely showed such vulnerability, her voice soft with a slight upward inflection, almost like she was pleading.

Jin Zhou felt nothing. Her voice was almost cruel as she said, “Jiang Yuhuai, you’re an adult. Besides, I’m not your bodyguard.”

The words were delivered without a shred of mercy, and as expected, silence fell on the other end of the line.

“Take a taxi home yourself. I’m hanging up now.”

Before Jiang Yuhuai could respond, Jin Zhou hung up, blocked the number, and deleted the contact in one swift motion.

Gazing at her now clean and tidy phone screen, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction.

Now I can finally get some sleep.

Carefully lying flat to avoid her wound, Jin Zhou let out a contented sigh.

But before she could fully relax, her phone, which had only just fallen silent, began to ring again.

Damn it!

Jin Zhou jolted upright, her wound protesting with a sharp hiss. Ignoring the risk of reopening the injury, she grabbed the phone.

135xxxx2139

Not the same number as before.

Jin Zhou unconsciously exhaled in relief.

This must be work-related.

She answered tentatively, “Hello, this is Jin Zhou.”

There was no voice on the other end, but the familiar rushing wind and faint music echoed the previous two calls.

It was obvious the caller was the same person again.

Jin Zhou held the phone slightly away from her ear.

The number was indeed different from the previous calls.

What did this mean?

Had Jiang Yuhuai switched careers to selling SIM cards?

Jin Zhou was chilled by this cold joke.

She sighed, resigned. “Jiang Yuhuai, I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait…” Jiang Yuhuai’s voice suddenly grew urgent, her volume spiking as her breath sounded so close it felt like it was brushing against Jin Zhou’s ear.

“Hmm?” Jin Zhou waited for her to continue.

Jiang Yuhuai took a shallow breath, as if steeling herself to say something difficult.

Then she spoke.

“Jin Zhou, I want to see you.”

It was indeed something she shouldn’t have said.

Jin Zhou remained silent.

Over the years, she had fielded countless advances, each one smoothly and politely rebuffed. If necessary, she could resort to a scathing rebuke, telling them not to be a toad lusting after a swan.

But this was Jiang Yuhuai, and that made things different.

It wasn’t that Jin Zhou didn’t know how to respond.

She simply couldn’t figure out what Jiang Yuhuai was thinking.

It had been the same last time.

And it was the same this time.

Jiang Yuhuai seemed oblivious to their current relationship, always saying ambiguous, suggestive things.

The feeling was utterly bizarre.

It was as if Jin Zhou was the only one being toyed with, the only one dwelling on it.

Jin Zhou called her name again, her tone now utterly serious.

“Jiang Yuhuai.”

Jiang Yuhuai replied, “I’m here.”

“I’m your ex-girlfriend,” Jin Zhou said, “the one you had a messy breakup with, the kind where you’d rather die than see each other again.”

“Not some casual hookup you met at a bar, the kind you’d say you miss one day and sleep with the next.”

Jin Zhou spoke calmly, “Do I really need to remind you of this?”

Jiang Yuhuai paused, seemingly at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it that way.”

Tired of playing this drunken truth-telling game, Jin Zhou pressed her temples and said wearily, “Jiang Yuhuai, I’m exhausted. Please don’t call me again.”

This time, Jin Zhou didn’t hang up immediately. Instead, she waited patiently for Jiang Yuhuai’s response.

She knew that after pushing him this far, Jiang Yuhuai would have no choice but to agree.

Moreover, he was a man of unwavering integrity; he would always honor his word.

“Alright,” Jiang Yuhuai said, and he hung up immediately.

Jin Zhou exhaled in relief.

She lay back down on the bed, pushing thoughts of the case and Jiang Yuhuai’s cryptic call from her mind. She cleared her head, ready to sleep.

Due to her rather severe injury, Su Yun had forced her to take an extended leave.

For the past two weeks, Jin Zhou had spent most of her time resting and recuperating, only occasionally handling work on her laptop.

Though Jiang Yuhuai had made a few unwelcome visits, disrupting her peace, she had otherwise enjoyed a relatively peaceful rest.

The downside of such ample sleep was that even with her eyes closed, her mind remained sharp and alert, devoid of any drowsiness.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Jin Zhou opened her eyes again.

The room was dimly lit, the neon lights from outside casting shimmering, ethereal reflections on the windowpane.

Silence filled the room.

For a fleeting moment, Jin Zhou seemed to lose all awareness of her body, as if she were floating weightlessly in the air.

Her heart and flesh didn’t belong to her, nor did her emotions.

This feeling—perhaps it could be called emptiness.

Jin Zhou hadn’t felt this emptiness for many years.

The last time was when Jiang Yuhuai had just left.

After the hospital incident, Jin Zhou had come to a realization.

Perhaps the lingering effects of their youthful love were too profound.

Or perhaps their breakup had been too hasty, leaving Jin Zhou clinging to that unresolved answer with an almost obsessive fervor.

In any case, the result was clear: she couldn’t let go of Jiang Yuhuai.

When she heard Jiang Yuhuai say, “I want to see you,” Jin Zhou should have remained calm.

But now it was clear she hadn’t met her own expectations.

Jin Zhou flexed her right hand, trying to use the pain to suppress this inexplicable emotion.

Yet the pain from her wound did nothing to dispel the emptiness.

Instead, a flood of other emotions surged forth:

Shock, confusion, anger, resentment…

But none of the detached composure she had expected.

Wasn’t Jiang Yuhuai the one who had left first?

She was the one who had rejected her, who had abandoned her alone.

Wasn’t Jin Zhou the victim here?

Jin Zhou had already spent so many years in a daze.

Just as she had finally convinced herself to accept a life without Jiang Yuhuai, treating everything as the past,

Jiang Yuhuai reappeared before her, as if nothing had happened, uttering those words, “I want to see you,” with such ease.

What right does she have?