Jiang Chenghong nodded, gaze fixed on the slender figure at the far end of the corridor. "Qiu Zheng wants to bet on both sides; we'll keep Xiao He in the capital."
Great-Grandfather said nothing more, but the kindness had already vanished from his eyes.
The Qiu Family still held a seat of sorts in the capital.
To put it bluntly, although Qiu Yihe and Qiu Yihes maternal uncle appeared distant on the surface, who knew what their real relationship was in private.
After all, they were family.
Everything the Qiu Family did was for the sake of the whole clan. Now that The two elders insisted Qiu Yihe remain in the capital—even planned to place her inside Hou Pingliang's Security Bureau—it was naturally for their own benefit as well.
Under their own roof, they could lift you up with a single word, and they could just as easily bring you down.
He stepped out of the reception hall onto flagstones polished smooth by time.
Pomegranates hung unripe on either side; the wind rattled the leaves.
In the past, Qiu Yihe would have skipped to Jiang Cheng's side, chattering questions about the carved window lattices or some dusty relic.
Today she simply walked with downcast eyes, saying nothing.
Seeing her like this, Jiang Cheng didn't speak either. One hand in his pocket, he followed at an unhurried pace.
When they reached the corridor that led to the front courtyard, Qiu Yihe finally halted.
She stopped, turned, and fixed him with a deliberately cool gaze. "No need to see me off. I can walk by myself. Go back."
Taking in her taut profile, Jiang Cheng merely smiled and kept walking. "I'm not seeing you off. I've got errands to run—just going the same way."
The word "same" deflated every scrap of bravado she'd mustered.
All the frustration she'd been suppressing bubbled up. With a soft humph she spun around and marched on.
Irritation tangled her steps.
Two strides later the doorsill of the corridor caught her foot; she pitched forward.
Certain she was about to fall flat on her face, she felt her wrist seized by Jiang Cheng's warm, steady grip.
The pull set her heart cursing again—cursing herself.
Even her anger was clumsy.
A fresh wave of defeat washed over her.
Blushing, she lifted her gaze straight into his eyes.
The retort on her tongue died when she caught the faint worry in his furrowed brow.
"Not watching where you walk?"
What's that look supposed to mean?
Oh, so he can worry about me now.
Her anger still simmering, she tried to yank her hand free.
"None of your business!"
She tugged again when she realized he hadn't let go.
When he simply stared, something inside her twisted and she felt unjustly wronged.
She wasn't normally like this.
Usually she was brisk and straightforward; if upset, she'd snap right back—never this sour ache tightening her chest and stinging her nose.
Before she could sort the unfamiliar feeling, her eyes were already hot.
Realizing they'd reddened only deepened her annoyance.
He was the scumbag—why was she the one showing weakness?
To crush the inexplicable hurt and embarrassment, she fell back on the mask she knew best.
Leaning closer with deliberate cheek, she cracked a coarse joke: "What, still staring? Want another round?"
Seeing her sulk, Jiang Cheng didn't bother to look stern.
In the end, this mess was his fault.
And she'd still been running a fever at the time—no wonder she felt wronged.
He knew how to soothe a woman.
A proper man could spout sweet talk all night without repeating a line.
Right now, though, he dared not comfort her—couldn't.
Yes, it was his mistake, but what good would comforting do?
Once would lead to twice, then a third.
Given his track record, he might well leave her on the back burner again.
Unless he turned into one of those scumbags who kept memos and set daily alarms.
That was something he'd never do.
He was a good man; let the scumbags exhaust themselves.
So even if Qiu Yihe despaired of him now, he wouldn't offer empty comfort.
Lower expectations made for smoother relationships.
You could pamper a woman, but on this front you had to keep her hopes minimal.
Sure, such a compliance test might backfire.
If it did, it did.
He'd been reborn and had clawed his way this far.
He wouldn't be shackled by something so trivial.
Any woman he wanted was within reach.
If in the end she couldn't accept it, he could simply say: fate brought us together, but destiny keeps us apart.
With that thought, instead of releasing her he pulled her closer.
Their bodies almost touching, he stepped forward.
The scent of cedar and warm sunlight enveloped her, sending her heart into a frenzy.
She was forced back step by step.
Looking down, his worry now a helpless smile, he murmured, "What's this? So docile inside, and the moment we step out you're bristling?"
Pinned against a pillar, cold stone at her back, her frustration flared.
Glaring, she wrenched her wrist and snapped, "Don't push your luck!"
Before the words faded she balled her free fist and rammed it toward his ribs.
It was a solid, vengeful blow.
Jiang Cheng twisted aside, already expecting it, and caught her wrist.
The instant his fingers brushed her skin, Qiu Yihe snapped her ankle up toward the inside of his knee.
Nothing like their playful sparring after drinks last time.
The moves were fast, precise—no game.
"Serious, are we?" He arched a brow, easing his grip but not letting go.
Instead he retreated half a step, interest flickering. "Then let's have another round."
Already burning with anger, Qiu Yihe snarled at the taunt.
She yanked free, sidestepped, and drove her elbow toward his back. "Today I'll teach you: cross me and you'll regret it!"