Rich Woman, But Got Dumped By A Jerk Three Times. - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: It Was a Long Search for You, Ye Ge

When that final word “you” condensed into a smile on Yun Jiushu’s lips, the gaze from the stage shifted away.

The next instant, the drums, which had previously only served as embellishment, suddenly took over the soundscape.

The drum beats fell like a torrential downpour; the flashing lights crossed like stacking waves.

Dry ice from the smoke machine was pushed out, painting the scene with a Berlin fog amongst the colors of the alcohol.

The atmosphere was instantly propelled to a climax.

Emotions were stirred up, setting even the soul on fire. A few figures occasionally leaped out of the crowd, surging like fish, their bodies sliding into the music.

Only the lead singer Box’s in-ear monitor vibrated, and the premature surge of emotion made her frown almost imperceptibly in confusion as she looked toward the corner.

But there was no return gaze.

The drum kit, subtly enclosed by a transparent shield in the corner, had quietly become the star.

The drumsticks, flipping and dancing, were as dazzling as if they had caught fire, and the person who was usually reserved was vibrant.

Fine beads of sweat broke through the black hair; the scars on her right eye and cheek were beautiful, like intentional makeup. Her pale, thin lips only showed a normal person’s color because they were tightly pressed together.

The drummer, completely immersed in the rhythm, had become a god, wantonly manipulating and playing with everyone’s souls.

But the more frenzied the atmosphere, the more noticeable the discordant, icy gaze of the person in the crowd became.

A-Ci subtly accelerated the drum beats. The bass chords and keyboard melody closely followed the drums, and the singer, having adjusted the rhythm, effortlessly pursued with high notes.

Time was consumed by the musical notes as the fog dispersed.

The moment the clock struck midnight, the band on stage began to take their final bows, and the sound system was replaced with pop music.

The elevated souls of the audience had yet to fully settle back into their bodies.

“How was it? How was it?” Nuo Ye, her voice completely hoarse, turned to seek affirmation: “I guarantee you, you won’t find a second band this great in all of Chuncheng, no, all of Yunnan.”

The two bosses, completely immersed, nodded in agreement. Though the band had finished, the bar atmosphere was still steeped in excitement.

Only Yun Jiushu, who remained seated, maintained a detached expression, her gaze following the final bright flash of hair color as it disappeared from the stage.

“Does Boss Jiu not like heavy metal?” He Qi, the deputy from the Food Regulatory Bureau, noticed something and asked tentatively: “Or is this place not to your taste? Can’t get into it?”

After being called out, the ice in her eyes rapidly dissipated. Her red lips curved slightly, and Yun Jiushu turned her face to answer: “Sister Qi, please forgive me. I’m just not used to a scene like this. I was so stunned I haven’t recovered yet.”

“Is that so?” He Qi smiled slightly at the reply, subtly exchanging a glance with the person beside her.

Yun Jiushu, unaware of the small movement, was still immersed in her shock.

But unlike the shock of those around her, what stunned Yun Jiushu was neither the music nor the atmosphere.

It was the drummer who, despite sitting in the corner, controlled the energy of the entire venue.

Similar. She was just too similar.

If a person’s appearance and clothing could be faked, their figure was something that absolutely couldn’t be changed.

Even though the drummer was sitting the entire time, Yun Jiushu was certain, based only on her seated posture.

She was Ye Ge.

The lips, the jawline, the neck, and the deeper contours beneath the clothing that Yun Jiushu had mentally traced countless times—no one was more familiar with that body than Yun Jiushu.

It wasn’t just similar.

Her brow twitched slightly again. She let out a small breath. That drummer was Ye Ge; Yun Jiushu was certain.

But at the moment the drum sound erupted, when the emotion surged wildly, Yun Jiushu suddenly felt a flicker of hesitation.

Could a person truly undergo such a massive change?

If the frenzied drummer on stage was Ye Ge, then who was the cold, distant math teacher who had accompanied her three years ago during the rainy season in Yeyu?

But if that drummer wasn’t Ye Ge, why did she possess the exact same figure as Ye Ge, with even the angle of her head tilt perfectly matching her memory?

The chaotic thoughts were like chestnuts roasting on a fire; lacking a crack, they remained suspended, about to burst but not quite.

Yun Jiushu’s gaze turned cold again. Her previously boiling eyes lowered, reining in her thoughts.

“Exactly, exactly! A-Jiu loves these kinds of occasions,” Nuo Ye, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, snapped out of her own emotion and turned to the other two with a smile: “Sister Qi wouldn’t know, but A-Jiu is different from others. Don’t let her young age fool you; she’s steady and capable. Plus, she’s great at cards. Next time we’ll arrange a game.”

He Qi nodded slightly but didn’t take the bait.

“Well, it’s still early,” Nuo Ye stared at the unusually quiet Yun Jiushu, trying to catch her eye. “How about we go grab a late-night snack?”

Perhaps her small gestures were too obvious, or perhaps Yun Jiushu’s silence at that moment was too abrupt. When Nuo Ye’s words fell, the other two’s gazes landed directly on Yun Jiushu.

In the lingering excitement of the party, the atmosphere at their table cooled down too quickly.

Suddenly becoming the focus of attention, the chestnut that failed to burst was stuck in her throat.

The moment Yun Jiushu lifted her eyes, she smiled and nodded: “Sure, I’m new to Chuncheng, and I’d love to try some local specialties.”

The atmosphere didn’t immediately improve with her reply.

He Qi’s eyes still held a hint of elusive darkness. Nuo Ye was considering what to say next when she heard Yun Jiushu speak again.

“I apologize, though,” she said, already standing up. As she rose, her chair scraped, a sound quickly swallowed by the joyous ambiance. “I’d like to use the restroom before we head out.”

…

Stepping out of the room, the temperature difference between inside and out made people instinctively huddle up.

There was no distinction between day and night on the bar street. The bright colors of the band members who had left the stage blended into the night, fracturing into the light and shadows visible on the roadside.

Though spring had arrived, it was late at night after the rain. The sudden gusts of wind chilled one to the bone, and even the footsteps that sounded behind her were swallowed by the wind.

The hearing aid hidden beneath her long hair flashed red. The person standing at the very end of the group subconsciously turned her head first.

“I’m here, I’m here—”

The person, panting heavily after a sprint, had a few strands of bright golden hair flying up. “Ouch, I’m about to throw up from running. Thank you, A-Ci. Give me the guitar bag.”

Looking at the familiar blonde hair flickering in front of her, the person called A-Ci raised her hand, her fingers touching her ear. Clenching her fist and tucking something into her pocket, she began to take the bag off her shoulder, her gaze subtly sweeping toward the corner behind her.

Sensing the gaze, a figure in the corner flickered like a fish.

A small ripple spread across the calm night, and A-Ci quietly looked away.

“A lazy donkey always has an excuse.” Tangtang complained disdainfully: “A-Ci is the only one with such a good temper. Next time, you should just have her go back alone.”

The band had left, and the bar’s mood was winding down. Guests would start moving to the next venue in about fifteen minutes, so bands usually hailed a cab quickly after playing to avoid the rush.

But tonight was unusual. The moment the group stood by the road, Box immediately said she couldn’t hold it.

So Tangtang had to cancel the cab she’d just hailed. Everyone waited in the wind for ten minutes. The band’s income wasn’t high; they stuck together for all their living expenses to save money.

“It was an accident!” Box swung the bag back onto her back, chuckling. “I promise no more accidents this time.”

“You better not,” Tangtang ignored her, pulling out her phone again. “It’s hard to get a cab here. Let’s walk forward.”

The night deepened, and the new gusts of wind were sharper.

The scattered footsteps were drowned out by Box’s loud laughter as she eagerly tried to appease Tangtang beside her.

The bar street had many storefronts, with a narrow alley between every six stores. Every time they passed an alley, they ran into a wind tunnel.

The wind that suddenly picked up scattered the black hair like spreading ink.

The ear hidden beneath the fine strands of hair twitched, and the forward steps slowed.

“A-Ci?” Natsuki, constantly monitoring the person beside her, also stopped. “What’s wrong?”

The call successfully brought everyone to a halt. Box and Tangtang, who had already passed the wind tunnel, turned around.

“Sorry.” The person standing in the wind tunnel was shadowed by the streetlamp. Under the light, her long fingers flew. A-Ci looked apologetic: “I think I dropped one of my hearing aids back at the bar.”

As if to prove it, A-Ci deliberately lifted her hair.

A faint, flesh-colored scar ran along her left brow bone, and only a pressure mark remained where the hearing aid had been on her ear.

This unexpected event disrupted the plan. Tangtang’s expression was subtly complicated for a moment, “What do we do now?”

“I’ll go back with you to look.” Natsuki didn’t overthink it and was about to turn back immediately: “Tangtang and Box can leave first. We’ll take another cab later.”

Hearing that A-Ci lost her hearing aid, Box immediately protested: “No, I want to go too.”

“No need.” A-Ci waved her hand repeatedly, pointing to her right ear in sign language: “I think I remember where it is. You guys go ahead and take a cab. I’ll get one myself later.”

As if afraid of being refused, A-Ci added: “It’s really cold now, and I don’t want to delay everyone. Plus, I can handle it faster alone. Thank you.”

She immediately adopted a polite distance, making their previously intimate relationship feel suddenly estranged.

Natsuki still wanted to say something, but Tangtang pulled her back: “Alright, be careful then. We’ll wait for you up ahead for a bit. If it’s really an issue, just send us a message.”

“Okay.” A-Ci signed: “Thank you.”

Natsuki was restrained but watched A-Ci turn around resolutely and walk forward.

“Let’s go, Natsuki,” Tangtang scolded in a low voice: “Do you need to be any more obvious? If you truly respect her, treat her like a normal person.”

The three who had turned and were now talking softly didn’t realize that the person who had turned and walked away decisively had already slowed her pace.

She only stopped when she confirmed that the bright colors had vanished from her sight.

The person who stopped in place took the hearing aid out of her pocket and put it back on. She then turned and walked into the small alleyway, which was in the opposite direction of the bar.

The equipped device enhanced her normal hearing, making even the slightest, previously hidden sounds clear.

The pair of testing eyes that had followed her out of the bar were like a python lurking deep in the jungle. Hidden in the night all evening, they were now constantly closing in from behind.

Until—

“Ye Ge.”

The sudden, emotionless voice rang out behind her.

It was past midnight. The long alley was deep, and the world seemed to have fallen asleep.

The call came abruptly, but it surprisingly made the person deep in the alley curl her lips. Her forward steps halted. Her straight, slender eyelashes covered half of her pupils, concealing all emotion.

A name is a floodgate for memory.

When Yun Jiushu heard the two words she had spoken, she clearly felt something inside her cracking.

She found that familiar severity in the face that turned to answer her.

BANG—

The chestnut that had been roasting on the fire all night finally burst open.

She didn’t know where the brute strength came from. By the time Yun Jiushu realized what she was doing, her fingertips were already embedded in the collar of the person in front of her, closing the distance forcefully.

The moment her back hit the corner of the wall, a sharp pain spread rapidly from her tailbone.

A-Ci bit down hard on her tongue, desperately stifling the groan of pain that threatened to escape.

The god who had been so dazzling and wantonly manipulating emotions on stage was now like a pathetic dog, cornered against a wall.

“I thought you were dead,” Yun Jiushu couldn’t even manage the pretense of dignity. She sneered through clenched teeth.

“It was a long search for you, Ye Ge.”