Chapter 38: Gaining the Upper Hand Yet Still Playing Coy

Aunt Qiu brought over a plate of freshly boiled dumplings and set them before Wen Yu Wang, speaking up on behalf of Jiang Fan: “Little Jiang is a really good person. We hadn’t even known him for a day, but when trouble struck the shop, he was brave enough to step in and help us sort it out. Ever since he arrived, he’s been lending us a hand whenever he can.”

“What kind of trouble can a shop really have?” Having interned at the bureau, Wen Yu Wang had some knowledge of society’s ways and asked the question casually.

Jiang Fan sat opposite Wen Yu Wang, his brow furrowed, preoccupied with how to deal with her, paying no attention to the conversation between the two women.

Aunt Qiu recounted how the young thug and his gang had come to cause trouble.

Seeing Aunt Qiu’s concern for Jiang Fan, Wen Yu Wang asked curiously, “How did you two meet?”

Aunt Qiu then told the story of how Uncle Qiu had brought soup to Jiang Fan and Hao Meng, but seeing that Wen Yu Wang was a girl, and uncertain whether she was seeking Jiang Fan for romantic reasons, the cautious Aunt Qiu left out the misunderstanding about Hao Meng being Jiang Fan’s girlfriend, mentioning only that they were friends.

Aunt Qiu was careful, but Wen Yu Wang, a student of psychology, was very sharp-minded.

Hearing that Jiang Fan had come with a girl early in the morning, shivering from the cold and seeking warmth with breakfast, she immediately deduced that their relationship was unusual.

Realizing that Jiang Fan had already had a romantic encounter just days after arriving, Wen Yu Wang couldn’t say why, but felt distinctly uncomfortable. She shot Jiang Fan a sidelong glance and found him still lost in thought, oblivious to her conversation with Aunt Qiu. She promised herself, “Once I finish these dumplings, I’ll settle this with you.”

After putting down her chopsticks and paying for the meal, Wen Yu Wang called out to the still-dazed Jiang Fan, “Stop daydreaming. Come outside—I need to talk to you.”

Jiang Fan followed Wen Yu Wang to her car.

Once inside, she closed the door and, with a trace of anger, demanded, “Tell me—who was the woman you came to the dumpling shop with a few days ago?”

Jiang Fan, distracted, asked, “What woman at the dumpling shop?”

Wen Yu Wang believed he was playing dumb and snapped, “Don’t pretend you don’t know. The owner said that your first time at the shop, you came with a woman, and it was very early in the morning. Don’t tell me you were just friends—you just happened to run into each other at dawn on the street and decided to come together? I can’t believe I thought I’d wronged you. I went through all this trouble to come to Dongguan to find you.”

Hearing Wen Yu Wang’s words, Jiang Fan finally realized what she was getting at. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided it was best to start with the most important matter—the incident at the bathhouse—so he began, “You really did misunderstand me. The day at the bathhouse, I was…”

Wen Yu Wang immediately cut him off, relentless: “I’m not asking about the bathhouse right now. I’m asking why you were with a woman so early in the morning. If you can’t explain, it proves you’re a scoundrel—just a few days in Dongguan and already deceiving girls. That business at the bathhouse must have been you deliberately trying to spy on me.”

“Ah,” Jiang Fan sighed at her persistence, “I only have one mouth. Can’t you let me explain everything one at a time?”

“No. Explain this first. Just two days after arriving, you were with a girl at dawn. If that’s not being a scoundrel, what is?”

Jiang Fan shook his head with a bitter smile. “It’s not as if I wanted to be with a girl at dawn. I was turned out after trying to find a place to stay; what could I do? If it weren’t for the girl you say I harassed, I might have starved on the streets by now.”

He explained how he met Hao Meng, how they ran into each other again, and, to convince Wen Yu Wang, described borrowing a place from Wang Yong and even spending the night in a graveyard.

Noticing how much she minded that he’d been at the dumpling shop with Hao Meng at dawn, Jiang Fan concealed the fact they’d shared a bed, only admitting that, for lack of options, they had indeed slept in the same room.

After Jiang Fan finished, Wen Yu Wang’s mood improved considerably.

Thinking of his hardships, Wen Yu Wang not only felt guilty but also became interested in the kind-hearted Hao Meng.

She took out Jiang Fan’s student ID, which he’d left at school, and handed it to him. “Teacher Yan said you come from a poor family, but you’re definitely not a scoundrel. If it weren’t for my family background, you wouldn’t have been expelled. My father inquired, but the school said changing their decision now would create endless trouble. I don’t know how to make it up to you; I owe you this debt.”

“This is a token of the years you spent studying so hard. Teacher Yan repeatedly told me I had to give it to you myself. I was afraid I’d lose it, so I kept it with me all this time. As for the clothes you left at school, Teacher Yan has already packed them up for you—she’ll give them to you when you return to Beijing.”

The moment he saw his student ID, Jiang Fan’s tears flowed. Though far from home, his heart was still tied to that campus—after all, it was the university he’d entered after more than ten years of hard study, the hope of his entire family.

As Jiang Fan wept, Wen Yu Wang fell silent.

After twenty minutes adjusting his mood, Jiang Fan felt somewhat calmer, though the atmosphere in the car remained heavy, and Wen Yu Wang’s expression was somber.

He wiped his tears and, feigning levity, joked, “It’s all right. Things are as they are; regret is useless now. As the ancients said, better to die beneath the flowers than live without romance. At least I’ve seen my dream girl’s truest self—being expelled was almost worth it.”

Hearing herself called his dream girl, Wen Yu Wang was already a little shy, but when she caught the meaning of “truest self,” she knew what Jiang Fan implied. Embarrassed, she reached out and slapped him lightly. “Are you trying to die, saying things like that? Aren’t you ashamed? Who’s your dream girl? You’re so full of yourself.”

Her playful slap happened to land on his left upper arm.

“Ow,” Jiang Fan cried softly, clutching his arm.

“Sorry, I didn’t notice—how did you get hurt?”

“How else? It’s the price of being someone’s lackey.”

Still wanting to make it up to him, Wen Yu Wang grabbed his injured arm and threatened, “What happened? And how did you end up as a lackey? Tell me everything, or I’ll hit you again.”

Jiang Fan told her how he’d gotten a job at Dafueng, how he’d accompanied Chen Anlong to the gambling den, and how he’d gotten hurt.

“Idiot. Is a boss like that worth risking your life for?”

“I took his money, so I have to solve his problems. I couldn’t just stand by while he got beaten, could I?”

“I know you have principles, and you’re tough, but you can’t risk your life for money! If you keep neglecting your own well-being, I’ll write to your master tomorrow and see how he deals with you.”

At the mention of Li, Jiang Fan was reminded of his questions. “How did you find the old man? And why did he give you my address? Is he well?”

Wen Yu Wang didn’t answer his string of questions directly, but spoke up for Li: “Old man, old man—how awful that sounds. Can’t you just call him Master? At least you care enough to ask how he’s doing. After you left Beijing, he worried about you constantly. When he heard I was coming to Dongguan to find you, he went everywhere borrowing money, wanting to bring you something in case you were starving out here.”