My Ex Who Dumped Me Comes to Hook Me Up Every Day - Chapter 21

Jin Zhou didn’t explain further. “I have some urgent matters to attend to. I’ll call you back later.”

Wen Yan called out from the other end of the line, “Hey… wait! Who was that? You haven’t introduced me yet!”

“We’ll chat on WeChat.”

Jin Zhou pretended not to hear and pressed the end call button.

Jiang Yuhuai stood at the doorway, watching her. She asked softly, “Did I interrupt something?”

Jin Zhou shook her head. “It’s nothing. Wen Yan called to invite me to her engagement party.”

“Engagement party?”

Jin Zhou explained, “Her family finally agreed. They’re planning to bring Qu Xinran back from abroad in the next few days. She’ll probably call you too.”

Jiang Yuhuai nodded. “Okay.”

Wen Yan and her girlfriend, Qu Xinran, had met while studying abroad.

During their time together, Jin Zhou, who was also pursuing her master’s degree in F Country, witnessed their entire journey from acquaintance to deep love.

Back in China, Jiang Yuhuai and their other close friends were among the first to hear the good news.

Their relationship had weathered three years of ups and downs, but the most challenging obstacle remained their families’ disapproval.

Both families were conservative and unable to accept same-s3x relationships. Over the years, Wen Yan and Qu Xinran had worked tirelessly to change their minds.

Now that they had finally gained their parents’ approval, they were about to walk down the aisle.

Both Jin Zhou and Jiang Yuhuai were genuinely happy for them.

Jin Zhou turned off the stove and asked while busying herself, “How’s your health? Are you still feeling unwell?”

Jiang Yuhuai replied softly, “I’m much better now.”

Jin Zhou filled two bowls of rice and placed them on the table. “That’s good. Just wait a moment, dinner will be ready soon.”

“Okay.”

Jin Zhou had a habit of not talking during meals.

Jiang Yuhuai didn’t speak either, quietly savoring the tender, braised meat.

When they were together, Jin Zhou acted in every way like a sheltered, wealthy girl.

She couldn’t do housework, had never set foot in the kitchen, and couldn’t even tell the difference between scallions and chives.

So, during their time together, Jiang Yuhuai did almost all the cooking.

This was partly out of consideration for Jin Zhou, but also because Jiang Yuhuai had her own ulterior motives.

For example—

To make up for her initially impure motives, or perhaps to compensate Jin Zhou for her financial contributions.

In truth, these two could be considered the same thing.

Although Jiang Yuhuai knew her labor didn’t match its value, she stubbornly insisted on it at the time.

Jiang Yuhuai had desperately wanted to soothe her wounded pride through this arrangement.

She had once believed she could maintain this delicate balance indefinitely.

Jin Zhou would never have to worry about such trivial matters, never needing to learn to cook, and could simply focus on being a successful lawyer.

But that was then.

Now, Jin Zhou’s cooking skills were likely quite impressive.

Facing this table laden with fragrant, colorful dishes, Jiang Yuhuai had already braced herself.

The first bite confirmed her expectations: it was delicious.

Yet as she chewed, her movements grew increasingly mechanical.

Jiang Yuhuai gazed at the familiar yet unfamiliar person across the table, her gaze drifting into a daze.

The Jin Zhou she knew in college was far more vibrant and unpredictable than the woman she had first met.

Sometimes she would half-tie her hair up, pairing a T-shirt with jeans for a casual, carefree look.

Other times, on a whim, she would invite friends to get perms, shop for a beautiful long dress, and then twirl awkwardly at home, asking Jiang Yuhuai if she looked pretty.

That Jin Zhou was still raw and unpolished.

Even without makeup, her natural beauty shone through. A smile playing across her still-developing features was enough to make her radiant and captivating.

Now, her appearance had changed significantly compared to six years ago.

And she had learned to wear makeup.

Makeup is a social etiquette for adults, and one of the biggest differences between students and working professionals.

But for Jin Zhou, it was more than that. Even though she still preferred light makeup, it was enough to make her strikingly beautiful, instantly captivating.

Her smooth, glossy hair cascaded down her back, while a subtle aquatic fragrance lingered behind her ears.

Her casually drawn brows, narrow, upturned phoenix eyes, and full, red-tinted lips all emphasized how much Jin Zhou had matured.

A slightly tart cherry is already delicious, but a fully ripened, juicy cherry is even more breathtaking and intoxicating.

Unfortunately, Jiang Yuhuai had lost the tart cherry and would never taste the ripe, succulent fruit.

When they met again, Jin Zhou had indeed become a successful lawyer.

She was well-known throughout C City’s legal circles and co-owned a law firm.

She had learned to cook, to take care of herself, and had grown accustomed to…

living without her.

After dinner, Jin Zhou insisted on washing the dishes in the kitchen, refusing to let the “patient” help.

Jiang Yuhuai’s protests were futile, so she leaned against the wall by the kitchen door, watching Jin Zhou expertly wash the dishes and efficiently clean up.

She desperately wanted to ask how Jin Zhou had become the woman she was today, and whether these past years had been difficult for her.

The words caught in her throat, courage failing her at the last moment.

Jiang Yuhuai knew about Jin Zhou’s plans to study abroad.

In fact, she had learned about it before any of their other friends.

That day at the airport, their mutual friends surrounded Jin Zhou, buzzing with farewells.

They urged her to enjoy the local culture and send postcards whenever she had time.

The young crowd chattered excitedly, romanticizing the idea of a free and independent life abroad, painting a poetic picture of a foreign land they had never experienced.

Jiang Yuhuai stood silently behind a nearby pillar, observing the scene.

She watched Jin Zhou wave goodbye to everyone, then saw her circle back, dragging her heavy luggage.

She seemed to be making a phone call, but the other party never answered.

Jin Zhou stood there for a long time, staring at her phone screen, before finally boarding the flight to a foreign land alone.

Winter in C City wasn’t particularly harsh, but the biting wind still managed to numb one’s limbs.

Yet, perhaps the chill in her heart ran even deeper than the cold on her exposed skin.

Jiang Yuhuai knew perfectly well who the other party on the phone was.

She could restrain herself from answering.

But she couldn’t control her emotions from being affected.

Would Jin Zhou feel lonely in a place where she couldn’t speak the language?

Would she get used to the Western food there?

Completely unfamiliar soil, days with no one to rely on…

It must be so hard.

Jiang Yuhuai suppressed the stinging in her nose and asked with a slightly nasal tone, “How did I get from the car to here?”

Her words lacked their usual crispness, instead carrying a soft, blurred quality that was almost endearing.

Jin Zhou couldn’t help but glance at Jiang Yuhuai, but quickly averted her gaze when their eyes nearly met, feigning nonchalance.

She’s probably still half-asleep, Jin Zhou thought.

“I carried you on my back,” Jin Zhou replied casually.

Jiang Yuhuai’s expression shifted slightly. “That must have been exhausting,” she murmured. “I’m quite heavy.”

Jin Zhou shot her a quick glance. “Heavy? Don’t you know how much you weigh?”

Jiang Yuhuai’s eyes widened slightly, as if she were relieved.

“Good, as long as I’m not too heavy.”

Hearing this, Jin Zhou felt an inexplicable surge of irritation.

It’s just that I can’t stand Jiang Yuhuai, not that I’m worried about her neglecting her health.

She lowered her gaze and retorted, “You’re a doctor who can’t even take care of herself. Who would trust you to treat them?”

Despite the barbed remark, Jiang Yuhuai seemed unfazed. She smiled faintly.

“The hospital is busy.”

“Is your hypoglycemia also because of work?”

What job could possibly be more important than your health?

Jin Zhou’s voice carried a hint of reproach, an excessive warmth she herself didn’t seem to notice.

She seemed to have completely forgotten her own days of being so engrossed in cases that she neglected to eat.

And she seemed to have forgotten that, ultimately, how her ex-girlfriend mistreated her own body was none of her business.

Jiang Yuhuai remained silent.

Was her hypoglycemia because of work?

Not really.

Six years ago, when the incident occurred, she had run around alone, trying to find people to pull strings and resolve Jiang Xuemei’s case. She had no money and no time to eat.

Even after Jiang Xuemei’s case was resolved, Jiang Yuhuai couldn’t shake the emotional trauma. She often locked herself in her room, only eating when she was so hungry she felt weak all over.

Over time, this led to her developing hypoglycemia.

But Jiang Yuhuai wasn’t ready to share this with Jin Zhou yet.

After a long silence, Jin Zhou untied her apron and set it aside.

“Is that question so difficult to answer?”

Jiang Yuhuai smiled. “It’s nothing. The hospital’s meal schedule is irregular, you know. We work night shifts and sometimes have to be on call for twenty-four hours straight.”

Jin Zhou paused, then changed the subject.

“It’s getting late. We have work tomorrow. Let’s tidy up and go to bed.”

Jiang Yuhuai nodded obediently. “Okay.”

A warm shower was one of life’s greatest pleasures, and with the torrential rain drumming against the window, the comfort level soared even higher.

The warm water cascaded over her body, washing away the day’s fatigue.

A sudden thunderclap boomed overhead, but Jin Zhou barely registered it, letting out a soft sigh instead.

Following her usual routine, she prepared for bed after her shower.

Lying in bed, Jin Zhou closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

But with another person in the room, the variables had multiplied.

Just as she was finally drifting off, an annoying knock echoed through the pure sound of the rain.

Knock, knock, knock—

Being disturbed at this hour would irritate anyone.

Jin Zhou got up and walked to the door, her cold complaint already spilling out before she even opened it.

“Don’t just barge in on people’s sleep. Isn’t that basic common sense, Jiang Yuhuai?”

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Yuhuai said, her tone sincere.

Jin Zhou paused, finding it difficult to continue scolding her.

“What is it?”

“I’m a little scared. Can I sleep with you?”

Jin Zhou: ……

She hadn’t expected Jiang Yuhuai to push her boundaries this far. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “Jiang Yuhuai, are you joking?”

“No…”

Jiang Yuhuai stood in the darkness, her expression obscured, but her voice trembled slightly.

Jin Zhou frowned. “Then what do you mean?”

At that moment, a flash of lightning illuminated the room, striking Jiang Yuhuai’s face.

Immediately followed by a terrifying clap of thunder.

Boom!

The thunder roared like an explosion in their ears. Even though Jin Zhou had been expecting it, she still jumped in fright.

And she finally saw the genuine terror on Jiang Yuhuai’s face.

The other woman hadn’t been using this as an excuse to get intimate with her; she was simply… afraid of thunder?

With this realization, Jin Zhou’s anger instantly dissipated, and her expression softened unconsciously.

But after being together for so many years, how had she never noticed this before?

“You’re afraid of thunder?” Jin Zhou asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

As the thunder faded, Jiang Yuhuai seemed to relax slightly. She nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Jin Zhou wanted to ask why Jiang Yuhuai was afraid, but knowing it was a personal matter, she ultimately refrained from asking.

Jiang Yuhuai repeated her reason for being there.

“I’m too scared to be alone in an unfamiliar place. If it’s really no trouble, could I just sit in your room for the night? Please?”

Her voice was soft, and Jin Zhou instinctively felt a pang of discomfort.

An inexplicable emotion surged within her, and she heard herself say, “Come in.”

Jiang Yuhuai followed her inside, eventually standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Jin Zhou glanced at her, then at the only bed.

We’ve already seen each other naked. There’s no need to make a fuss about sharing a bed, right?

Having convinced herself, Jin Zhou said, “Don’t just stand there. Get in bed.”

The master bedroom featured a large, two-meter bed, more than enough space for two adults to lie comfortably side by side.

Both Jin Zhou and Jiang Yuhuai lay down with perfect decorum, instinctively leaving a space between them, maintaining a safe and polite distance.

Jiang Yuhuai remained still, and Jin Zhou wondered if she had fallen asleep.

Jin Zhou placed her hands over her chest and tried to close her eyes and fall asleep.

But her thoughts refused to quiet down. Instead, the moment her vision went dark, they ran wild.

Images flashed through her mind:

A smooth, pale back.

A neck glistening with a thin layer of sweat.

Eyes brimming with spring’s warmth.

Jiang Yuhuai’s eyes.

Jin Zhou’s throat felt dry, and a sudden, inexplicable heat surged through her.

Even though rain still pattered against the window, even though the weather was cool and refreshing.

Jin Zhou got up, drank a glass of ice water, and then went to the bathroom to wash her face with warm water.

As the steam rose and gradually cooled, she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her mind clearing.

She must have been bewitched earlier.

Otherwise, how could she have agreed to let Jiang Yuhuai into her room, let alone share the same bed?

Jin Zhou silently vowed to uphold her boundaries, reminding herself not to forget what Jiang Yuhuai had done, no matter how pitiful she might seem.

Having steeled her resolve, she turned around, only to find Jiang Yuhuai standing in the lamplight.

The cold white light illuminated her face, revealing every fine strand of downy hair. Details Jin Zhou had never noticed in daylight now stood out vividly: the delicate veins beneath her pale skin, the prominent bloodshot streaks in her eyes, and her parched, cracked lips.

Whether it was her imagination or not, even her usually thick, jet-black hair seemed dry and tinged with yellow, likely due to malnutrition.

In that moment, all her self-imposed boundaries and preconceived notions vanished without a trace.

Pity overwhelmed her.

Jin Zhou asked in a hoarse voice, “How did you wake up?”

Jiang Yuhuai’s eyes were clear as she shook her head. “I wasn’t asleep.”

The two women fell silent in the pitch-black darkness.

Jin Zhou held the medical profession in the highest regard, knowing that most doctors were genuinely dedicated and responsible. They operated daily under unimaginable pressure, their efforts and sacrifices far exceeding what words could convey.

For Jiang Yuhuai to have risen to the position of Chief Physician in such a short time, natural talent was essential, but unwavering dedication and relentless effort were even more indispensable.

It wasn’t until Jin Zhou truly saw Jiang Yuhuai’s completely unguarded side that she realized this level of effort and dedication was abnormal.

It left her with a heart-wrenching sense of unease, as if Jiang Yuhuai had nothing to hold onto, as if she might abandon everything at any moment and disappear to some distant place.

Jin Zhou softly called out, “Jiang Yuhuai.”

Surprised by Jin Zhou’s sudden use of her name, Jiang Yuhuai looked up. “Hmm?”

Jin Zhou lowered her gaze, asking casually, “I heard you’re the youngest Chief Physician at First Hospital, with a stable job and excellent career prospects—I imagine your salary must be quite good?”

Jiang Yuhuai couldn’t discern Jin Zhou’s motive for bringing this up. “…Yes.”

Jin Zhou switched off the bathroom light. Only when she was certain they were completely enveloped in darkness did she lift her head to meet Jiang Yuhuai’s eyes.

“You’re much wealthier than before, aren’t you? So why does it seem like you’re living worse than ever?”

Jiang Yuhuai froze, startled.

Was Jin Zhou actually concerned about her?

A bittersweet ache twisted in her chest, and her hand, hidden behind her back, unconsciously clenched tighter and tighter.

Jiang Yuhuai’s lips twitched, wanting to smile but unable to.

“It’s not about the money.”

It’s not because I don’t have money, it’s because I don’t have you.

The words themselves were innocuous, but they stirred up unpleasant memories for Jin Zhou.

“Jiang Yuhuai, can I ask you something?”

Jiang Yuhuai instinctively replied, “Yes.”

Jin Zhou nodded. “Okay.”

She lowered her gaze to the colorful droplets of water reflecting the faint light in the pool, asking without expectation, “When you decided to be with me, was it for the money?”

Six years later, Jin Zhou finally voiced the question that had haunted her.

Her heart pounded fiercely, as if liberation were imminent.

But—

Jiang Yuhuai’s chest tightened. She heard herself say, “Yes.”

She knew this day would come from the moment she chose to begin their relationship with deception.

After a long silence, a self-deprecating laugh came from across the pool, and the surrounding temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

Jiang Yuhuai tried to explain, “Zhouzhou…”

Zhouzhou.

The nickname Jiang Yuhuai had used most often when they were together.

Hearing that clear, melodious voice utter those two syllables in such a gentle, soothing tone…

This had once been Jin Zhou’s most cherished dream.

Now, hearing it sent a chill through her heart.

Jin Zhou knew from the start that Jiang Yuhuai hadn’t loved her.

Back then, her mind was simple, believing that since Jiang Yuhuai had agreed to be with her, perhaps she was willing to give her a chance.

So Jin Zhou tried even harder to be good to Jiang Yuhuai. Any slight change in Jiang Yuhuai’s attitude made her feel like she could already see a beautiful future where they understood and loved each other.

But ultimately, matters of the heart cannot be forced. Even if Jiang Yuhuai had never truly loved her, Jin Zhou wouldn’t have blamed her.

But—

She could accept Jiang Yuhuai not loving her, but she couldn’t accept that this person had been deliberately using her from the very beginning.

Jin Zhou interrupted her coldly, “Don’t call me that. It’s disgusting.”

“…Alright, I won’t,” Jiang Yuhuai paused. “I just wanted to say that this was entirely my fault. I won’t make excuses. I’m sorry.”

Jin Zhou stared at her expressionlessly. “So, what did you use the money for?”

“At the time, my family member was hospitalized, and we’d spent all our savings. We needed to cover ongoing treatment costs and tuition fees… I was completely broke.”

Carrying this secret for so many years, Jiang Yuhuai felt the weight that had been pressing on her heart lighten slightly as she finally spoke the words aloud.

Jin Zhou remained silent, her expression hidden in the darkness.

Even though Jiang Yuhuai hadn’t offered any concrete evidence, Jin Zhou already believed her.

I need to tell myself, she thought, even if she lied to me first, it wasn’t some heinous crime. It’s only natural for people to look out for themselves. Since Jiang Yuhuai has explained, there’s no need to dwell on this anymore.

Yet the pain, uncontrollable, spread from her heart through the nerve endings in her brain and down to her limbs.

If it was all for money…

When did Jiang Yuhuai start to genuinely care about me?

Or was it…

Never genuine at all? All a deception?

The affection was fake.

The smiles were staged.

Even the intimacy in bed was an act.

“Jin Zhou?”

Jiang Yuhuai’s voice was full of concern, but Jin Zhou, lost in her doubts and fears, couldn’t hear it.

She unconsciously took two steps back, trying to widen the distance between them.

Sensing the tense atmosphere, Jiang Yuhuai stepped forward, reaching for Jin Zhou’s hand hanging at her side.

Jin Zhou subtly evaded the touch.

“You’re angry, aren’t you?”

A pointless question.

Jin Zhou didn’t answer. Instead, she asked about something else.

“So, you broke up with me to pursue a better life?”

This was the first time Jin Zhou had brought up their breakup since they reunited.

Just let it be, she thought. Let’s both take a step back…

The past is the past. No blame, no lingering ties.

If Jiang Yuhuai answered yes, they could finally turn the page.

But after a moment of silence, Jiang Yuhuai shook her head firmly.

“No.”

An uncontrollable rage surged through Jin Zhou, the corners of her eyes reddening.

Not for a better life? Then why?

You broke up with me without warning right when Lin Xin cut off my financial support.

You vanished the night before we were supposed to move out of the big house.

How could it all be a coincidence?

The truth had been staring her in the face all along. She had simply refused to accept it until she heard it from Jiang Yuhuai’s own lips.

Jin Zhou suddenly felt a wave of boredom.

“Then let’s go to sleep,” she said, ending the conversation and turning to leave.

Her tone was utterly neutral, betraying no emotion.

Yet Jiang Yuhuai broke out in a cold sweat.

Instinct told her that if she didn’t say something now, she would lose Jin Zhou forever.

Just as Jin Zhou brushed past her, Jiang Yuhuai grabbed her hand.

“I have something for you.”

Jin Zhou paused.

Jiang Yuhuai pulled out a card she had kept for years—the product of her hard work—and tremblingly offered it to her.

After a long moment, Jin Zhou took the card.

The smooth texture and the raised, uneven lettering confirmed what she already suspected: it was a bank card.

Jin Zhou turned to look at Jiang Yuhuai, her eyes devoid of emotion.

“What is this?”

Jiang Yuhuai pressed her lips together, her voice slightly strained. “My savings. I’ve always wanted to return it to you, but I never found the right opportunity.”

Jin Zhou paused, a sardonic curve playing at the corner of her lips. “Return it to me?”

Jiang Yuhuai immediately began to explain, “It’s not what you think. I…”

Her words were cut short as Jin Zhou tossed the card at her.

The cold, hard edge grazed Jiang Yuhuai’s cheek, leaving a shallow scratch.

“Keep it,” Jin Zhou said. “I don’t need the money.”

Jiang Yuhuai’s eyes grew warm. “Jin Zhou, I didn’t mean to draw a line between us with this.”

Jin Zhou lowered her gaze. “Whatever your intentions, I don’t need it. Don’t say another word. I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

With that, Jin Zhou turned away, ignoring Jiang Yuhuai’s reaction, and retreated to her room.

Jin Zhou closed her eyes tightly, trying to calm her turbulent emotions.

After a moment, Jiang Yuhuai emerged from the bathroom.

Jin Zhou silently considered her options.

If Jiang Yuhuai knows better and lies down quietly, I’ll tolerate her staying the night. But if she doesn’t, I won’t hesitate to kick her out.

Tap, tap, tap—

Footsteps approached, but not from the other side of the bed. Instead, they seemed to be…

The mattress sank softly under her weight.

Jin Zhou frowned, about to warn Jiang Yuhuai.

But before she could speak,

a familiar scent filled her nostrils, and a soft warmth pressed against her lips.

Jin Zhou’s eyes widened in shock. Jiang Yuhuai’s face was inches from hers, their distance reduced to almost nothing.

Reacting instinctively, she shoved Jiang Yuhuai away, her voice sharp with anger. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Jiang Yuhuai didn’t answer.

Instead, she calmly began to remove the only garment she was wearing.

It was a new pajama set Jin Zhou had just bought—pure cotton, soft and comfortable.

The set was pink, printed with rows of white cat heads.

Jin Zhou had bought the girlish pajamas as a prank, intending to tease Jiang Yuhuai.

But now, by sheer accident, they created a contrast that defied description.

The childishly cute pattern against the mature, full curves of her cherry-red lips and pale skin.

Innocent, yet somehow provocative.

Jin Zhou gasped.

She immediately grabbed Jiang Yuhuai’s hand, stopping her from unbuttoning the second button.

“Jiang Yuhuai!” she hissed. “Stop it!”

Jiang Yuhuai didn’t relent. Instead, she traced the delicate bones of Jin Zhou’s hand with her fingers.

A tingling sensation spread from Jin Zhou’s palm to her fingertips, and her breathing gradually quickened.

“You…”

Just then, a warm, wet sensation enveloped her hand.

Licking, circling, entwining.

The last thread of Jin Zhou’s rationality snapped. She could only stare blankly as Jiang Yuhuai continued her actions.

Jin Zhou wasn’t frigid; as an adult, she naturally had her own desires. She could even feel a certain part of her body responding to this relentless provocation.

But—the person doing this was Jiang Yuhuai.

The woman who had been with her for money, and who had only belatedly offered a bank card six years later, attempting to settle accounts.

A battle raged within Jin Zhou’s mind.

Submit? Or stop?

The conflict didn’t last long.

Her eyes quickly regained their clarity, and she decisively pushed Jiang Yuhuai away.

“Jiang Yuhuai, I hope you can respect yourself.”

These words carried immense weight. For someone as fiercely proud as Jiang Yuhuai, they were a devastating blow.

In the next moment, Jiang Yuhuai’s figure froze in place.

Contrary to expectations, the scene of Jiang Yuhuai storming out didn’t unfold.

Biting her lip, Jiang Yuhuai remained silent for a moment, as if steeling herself. Then, with unwavering resolve, she said, “Zhouzhou, I want to start over with you.”

Jin Zhou stared directly at Jiang Yuhuai, her gaze tracing the contours of her face.

The sincerity in Jiang Yuhuai’s voice was so palpable that Jin Zhou found herself momentarily swayed.

She tilted her head, studying Jiang Yuhuai. “Why did you break up with me?”

Jin Zhou waited for Jiang Yuhuai’s answer, willing to accept any reason, even a fabricated one. If Jiang Yuhuai could offer even a semblance of explanation, Jin Zhou would cast aside all the pain she had endured and believe in her once more.

But Jiang Yuhuai hesitated. “I can’t tell you right now,” she finally said. “Can you wait a little longer?”

Wait a little longer?

Six years had passed. Jiang Yuhuai had left without a word, then returned on her own terms. And now she was asking Jin Zhou to wait again.

There was no joke more absurd than this.

Jin Zhou’s lips curled into a scornful smile. “Then why did you come back? To be friends?”

Now was not the time to reveal the full truth of what had happened six years ago, piece by piece, to Jin Zhou.

Jiang Yuhuai knew she had broken Jin Zhou’s heart six years ago by leaving without a word.

So when Jin Zhou asked that sarcastic question, Jiang Yuhuai didn’t argue. Instead, she bit her lip and leaned in, guiding Jin Zhou’s slender, cool finger to add color to the blank canvas.

Just as she had anticipated, Jin Zhou’s lips parted in surprise, and her eyes darkened.

Jin Zhou looked into her eyes and asked, “Jiang Yuhuai, do you know what you’re doing?”

Dry, swollen…

The discomfort made Jiang Yuhuai’s brow furrow involuntarily.

Yet, beneath the surface, she felt a surge of fulfillment and peace.

Leaning close to Jin Zhou’s ear, she whispered in a deliberately suggestive tone, “Of course… we’re making friends.”

Jin Zhou’s ear flushed crimson instantly, and her body trembled slightly.

Jiang Yuhuai was clearly pleased with her handiwork, a hint of blatant provocation in her eyes.

“Didn’t Lawyer Jin say she wanted to be friends? Why can’t you handle it when the moment comes?”

A smile hung on Jiang Yuhuai’s face, but it was different from her usual composed expression.

Her beautiful peach blossom eyes tilted upward slightly, not in a coy, teasing manner, but in a direct invitation.

The mole at the corner of her eye seemed to swim in desire, radiating endless allure.

Jin Zhou swallowed involuntarily, hearing the frantic pounding of her own heart.

Thump-thump—

It seemed louder than the thunder outside the window.

“I hope you won’t regret this.”

“Of course not… mmph.”

The last, off-key syllable was swallowed by their lips.

Outside, rain pattered against the window, where kittens played and frolicked.

Inside, the air grew damp with moisture and rain-soaked mist.

Waves surged and receded, rising high before crashing down again and again.

Only as dawn began to break did the rain finally subside.

“Keep a close eye on the patient in bed 16. Check her heart rate every half hour tonight.”

“Understood.”

“Has the family of the patient in bed 10 arrived?”

“Yes, they’re here.”

“Good. Have them sign the surgical risk consent form. The surgery is scheduled for tomorrow at 10:00 AM sharp.”

The nurse nodded. “Understood, Director Jiang.”

“Good. Get back to work.”

8:15 PM

Long after her shift had ended, Jiang Yuhuai finally finished her work.

She took off her white coat, hung it in the locker, tidied up, and left her office.

“Dr. Jiang, heading home? You’ve worked hard today!”

“You too.”

Tonight was Wen Yan’s welcome-back dinner, originally scheduled for 8:30 PM.

Due to working late, Jiang Yuhuai arrived to find most of the guests already there.

Wen Yan spotted her first and called out, “Jiang Yuhuai, you’re finally here! We’ve been waiting for you forever!”

Jiang Yuhuai, never one for formalities, picked up a wine glass from the table. “Then I’ll punish myself with three shots.”

The group, all old friends who hadn’t seen each other in ages, eagerly cheered her on as she downed the three shots without hesitation.

Someone even whistled.

Only Jin Zhou kept her eyes lowered, not even glancing at Jiang Yuhuai.

“Alright, alright, three shots is enough. Come sit down and eat.”

Wen Yan and Qu Xinran sat at the head of the table.

Jin Zhou was seated beside Wen Yan.

To avoid any awkwardness between the two women, the five seats around them were deliberately assigned to other guests, ensuring they had no chance for close proximity.

Jiang Yuhuai found a seat directly across from Jin Zhou.

Since the engagement details had already been discussed over the phone, the conversation at the table drifted to other topics, ranging from current events to personal anecdotes.

Wen Yan glanced at Jiang Yuhuai several times before finally asking during a mid-meal break, “What happened to your face? Have medical disputes become this severe lately?”

Jiang Yuhuai paused, touching her cheek. It was a scratch left by a bank card.

She smiled. “No, it was just a scratch from a kitten.”

This sparked everyone’s interest.

The introverted Qu Xinran asked shyly, “Do you have a cat at home? What breed is it?”

Wen Yan chimed in enthusiastically, “After we settle down back in China, Xinran and I are planning to get a cat too. Oh, what kind of cat food does your cat usually eat?”

Jiang Yuhuai instinctively looked up at Jin Zhou.

Jiang Yuhuai lowered her gaze, her tone pointed as she said, “It’s just a stray cat by the roadside. I didn’t feed it anything.”

Wen Yan missed the underlying meaning and instead launched into a serious lecture.

“You probably don’t know this, but stray cats can be easily startled by humans. When feeding them, it’s best to start from a distance and only approach once you’re sure they’re not resistant.”

“This cat used to be very affectionate with me, but she scratched me recently because I made her angry.”

Jiang Yuhuai delivered this line while looking directly at Jin Zhou.

Jin Zhou replied with a strained smile, “Is that so?”

The moment their conversation began, the previously noisy room fell into an abrupt silence.

Wen Yan felt a sudden sense of foreboding.

Oh no, they’re going to fight.